“You could have told me you didn’t want to be my mother anymore.”
Her voice broke.
“At least then I would’ve known who I was missing.”
Marianne reached for her.
Audrey stepped away.
“Don’t.”
Her mother stopped.
For several seconds, the only sound came from the refrigerator.
Then Nathaniel asked, “How did you do it?”
Marianne looked at him.
“The funeral.”
She closed her eyes.
He continued.
“You arranged a funeral for a living woman.”
“My sister helped.”
“How?”
Marianne shook her head.
“It was supposed to be a disappearance.”
Nathaniel stared.
“Explain.”
She described the plan in fragments.
She had abandoned her car near a rural road.
Caroline told Graham there had been an accident.
A supposed outside service provider supplied paperwork and a sealed ceremonial casket.
Caroline persuaded Graham that identification had already been handled and the remains shouldn’t be viewed.
He was grieving.
Exhausted.
Taking care of a nine-year-old daughter who had barely stopped crying.
He believed her.
Audrey listened.
Then she asked, “Who was in the coffin?”
Marianne looked down.
“No one.”
Audrey felt her stomach turn.
“Nothing?”
Her mother shook her head.
Audrey stared.
“My father carried an empty coffin.”
Marianne whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Audrey looked at her.
Then she began laughing.
It frightened even her.
She pressed a hand to her mouth.
Marianne stepped forward.
“Audrey.”
Her daughter shook her head.
“No.”