Chapter 18: Darla

Darla did not stand up when we reached the porch.

She sat on the swing with the car seat on her knees and the casserole dish at her feet, and she looked at me and waited.

"I left him," she said. "This afternoon. After the board meeting, when his father called."

"Okay," I said.

"I didn't know where else to go."

"You know where Mom lives."

"She'd send me back."

Ansel unlocked the door and carried the casserole dish inside without a word.

He came back for the car seat, and Darla let him take it.

We sat on opposite ends of his kitchen table.

My daughter slept in the bassinet.

Her daughter slept in the car seat on the floor, in a yellow hat, with a thumb at her mouth.

Darla put both hands flat on the wood.

"I want to tell you the whole thing," she said. "I won't ask you to forgive any of it."

"Good."

"The morning after Patsy, Otto called me before Mom was even awake."

"He said his father had seen the incident summary at the foundation."

"He read it to me. It said you were found unharmed in a locked supply room, with the door secured."

"Did he say who locked it?"

"No." She swallowed. "I didn't ask."

"Mom asked where you were, and I said you could have done something."

I kept my eyes on her.

"I don't know why I said it. I do know. Patsy called me the night before, twice, and I didn't pick up."

"I was at dinner with Otto."

I closed my eyes.

"You were at dinner with my fiancé."

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