Chapter 2 - Veronica Smiles Too Still
I did not breathe right after Daddy asked it. I remember that part because the candles made a soft ticking sound and my chest felt too tight to let air in and out like normal.
Daddy had turned his head away from me and toward the end of the table where Veronica sat. His shoulder was still leaned in close to my chair, close enough that I could feel the heat off his shirt, but his eyes were not on me anymore. His jaw had gone tight along the side I could see. A little muscle jumped there and then went still.
Veronica did not move at first. She sat very straight against the dark wood chair with her hands folded near her gold charger. The candlelight caught on her diamond necklace every time she breathed. Her dark hair was pinned up and not a piece moved. She looked at Daddy for a long second without blinking, and then she smiled.
It was not a big smile. It was just the corners of her mouth lifting while her eyes stayed cold.
"She's tired," Veronica said. Her voice was smooth and low, like she had practiced it. She glanced at me and then back at Daddy. "It's been a long night. You know how she gets when she's confused."
I felt my fingers curl tighter around my little gold spoon. The handle was warm from my hand and slick on the sides. Under it my white bowl of pasta had gone cool. I could see the butter starting to harden on top. I stared at Daddy because I did not want to look at her smile anymore.
Daddy did not look away from Veronica. He did not nod along or laugh it off the way grown-ups sometimes did when I said something wrong. His brow stayed pulled down and his mouth stayed flat. He reached without looking and set his big hand with the silver watch on the table beside my bowl, close to my elbow. Not touching me, just there.
"She didn't sound confused," he said. His voice was quiet. Quieter than Veronica's. He paused and swallowed. "Did you take something from her room?"
The air went strange. Across the table the white flowers in the low vase did not move. Behind Veronica the big windows were black except for our reflections doubled in the glass. I could see myself in there, small in my white lace dress with my white bow slipping a little to the side, holding up my spoon like it could help me.
Veronica let out a short breath through her nose. She unfolded her hands and picked up her cut-crystal water glass by the stem. She did not drink. She just turned it slowly so the candlelight broke inside it.
"Sofia," she said, still looking at Daddy, "sweetie, where did you leave Bunny last? Think hard."
I shook my head before I even thought about it. My hair swung against my cheeks and my bow pulled. I squeezed the spoon harder until the edge pressed into my palm. I kept my eyes on Daddy. I wanted him to look back at me and tell me he believed what I felt in my stomach.
"Bunny stays with me," I whispered. My voice sounded too small against the chandelier buzz. "For sleep."
Daddy glanced down at me then. Just a flick. His eyes softened for half a second and then went back to Veronica, harder. He shifted his chair a little closer to mine so his arm made a wall between me and the rest of the table.
Veronica set her glass down with a soft click on the wood. She smoothed the front of her burgundy dress over her lap. The velvet drank the candlelight and went almost black in the folds.
"Listen," she said. "If she thinks something is missing, we will go look after dinner. Together. I'll show you both there's nothing to be upset about. Okay?"
She said it like the talk was finished. Like after dinner would fix it. She smiled again, stiller this time, and tilted her head at Daddy.
Daddy did not smile back. He kept his eyes locked on her face. He tapped one finger once against the table, slow.
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"After dinner," he said. "We will."
He did not pick up his fork. He did not tell me to eat. He just left his hand there by my elbow and kept watching Veronica, and I understood even at three that he was not letting it go.
