Chapter 6: Pushed

Her mother dropped to her knees beside Claudia.

"Don't move, sweetheart. Don't move. Somebody call the doctor."

"I'm calling," said the Revere captain's wife from the hall, already holding her phone.

"I didn't touch her," Francesca said.

Nobody looked at her.

Claudia was sobbing in short, hitching gasps, one hand pressed to her chest and one to her stomach.

"My heart," she whispered. "Mama, it's racing."

"I know, I know."

Her mother turned her head.

The look she gave Francesca was one Francesca had seen before.

When she was eleven and Claudia fell off the swing Francesca had been pushing.

When she was fourteen and Claudia fainted at Francesca's school play.

It said, You did this, and I always knew you would.

"Get out of this house," her mother said.

"Mama, she threw herself into the dresser. I was by the closet."

"Get out."

The two captains in the hall shifted their feet.

The Southie captain was looking at the broken lamp.

The North End captain was looking at Francesca, and his face said nothing at all.

Michael pushed past her mother and crouched beside Claudia.

"Can you stand?"

"I don't know." She reached up and wound her arms around his shoulders. "Don't let her near me."

He slid one arm under her knees and lifted her.

She buried her face in his shoulder.

Over his arm, one blue eye found Francesca.

It was perfectly dry.

Michael carried her toward the door.

As he passed Francesca, he didn't stop or turn his head.

But his voice came low, just for her.

"The study. Ten minutes."

Then he was in the hall, and the captains were stepping aside for him, and her mother was following with her hand on Claudia's back.

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