Chapter 6
I woke up to the same bright light that had been on me when I was on the floor. It came through the blinds in the guest room and made stripes across the wood. My forehead throbbed when I sat up. I hadn't taken the pain pill Daniel left on the nightstand.
My phone was still where I'd hidden it, tucked inside the pillowcase. I checked it first thing. The photos were there. Three of them in my camera roll from yesterday afternoon, time-stamped 3:42. The bathroom mirror, the bruise, the angle with the cuff of my dress in the corner of the frame. I felt a weird rush seeing them. Like proof I hadn't dreamed it.
Downstairs, I could hear voices in the kitchen.
I changed out of the slept-in t-shirt Daniel had found for me and put my blue dress back on. I hadn't had anything else. When I lifted my arm, I saw it. A faint rust-colored smear along the white cuff. Blood. Mine. It had soaked into the fabric and dried.
The kitchen smelled like coffee and toast. Evelyn was at the breakfast nook in her red dress, the diamond necklace catching the light from the window. She'd already done her hair. The housekeeper, Rosa, was at the counter wiping down the espresso machine. She looked at me and her smile went tight.
"Claire, honey, good morning," Evelyn said. Her voice was warm in a way that made my stomach drop. "We were just talking about you. I told Rosa you took a nasty fall on the stairs yesterday. Poor thing, you were so dizzy."
Rosa nodded at me, not unkind, but careful. "You okay? Mrs. Evelyn said you fell hard."
I didn't answer right away. I could hear the fridge humming.
"I didn't fall," I said quietly. I looked at Rosa, then at Evelyn. "I didn't fall down the stairs."
Evelyn's smile didn't move, but her eyes flicked to my phone in my hand.
"Oh, sweetheart, you were so shaken up," she said, and reached out like she might touch my arm. I stepped back. "You hit your head. You might not remember clearly. Rosa, could you get her some ice? And maybe some of that arnica cream."
Rosa hesitated, cloth in hand. She glanced at the bruise on my forehead, then down at my dress.
Evelyn followed her look. "Claire, that dress," she said, her tone shifting to something maternal and concerned, loud enough for Rosa to hear. "Look at your cuff. You've got to get out of that thing. Let's throw it in the wash or just toss it, it's ruined. I have a nice robe you can wear. We'll get you something fresh."
She said it like she was helping me. Dispose of it. The word hung there even though she didn't use it.
"It's not ruined," I said. My voice sounded smaller than I wanted it to. "I'll keep it."
Evelyn tilted her head. The pendant on her necklace swung forward. "Don't be silly. You don't want to keep a stained uniform."
"It's my dress," I said. "I want to keep it."
The front door opened then. Daniel came in through the mudroom with a paper coffee cup and his gray jacket over his arm. He stopped when he saw us all in the kitchen. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept much.
"Morning," he said. He looked at me first. "How'd you sleep?"
"She didn't sleep well, poor thing," Evelyn answered for me. She turned to him, all grace. "I was just telling Rosa about her fall. She got confused on the stairs with the laundry basket. I told her we should get that runner fixed."
Daniel frowned. He looked at my forehead, then at Rosa.
"You fell on the stairs?" he asked me. "With a laundry basket?"
I shook my head. "No. I was in the living room. Against the wall."
He went still. He looked at his mother.
"You said she fell down the stairs?" he said to Evelyn. His voice was even, but I heard the question underneath it.
Evelyn laughed a little, light. "Well, by the stairs, in the hallway. It all happened so fast. The important thing is she's okay and we're taking care of her."
Daniel didn't laugh. He set his coffee down hard enough that it sloshed. He stared at the white cuff of my dress, at the stain Evelyn had just tried to get me to wash away.
"Mom, there is no laundry basket in the hallway," he said. "And the runner's fine. I looked at it last night."
The kitchen went quiet except for the tick of the clock above the stove. Rosa quietly picked up her spray bottle and moved toward the pantry, giving us space without being asked.
Evelyn's hand went to her necklace. She held the pendant between her thumb and forefinger.
"Daniel, don't interrogate your mother before you've had coffee," she said. Her smile was gone now. "Claire's hurt and confused. Let's not make it worse."
I slipped my phone into the pocket of my dress and pressed my hand over it. The photos were still there. The dress was still on me. I understood then what she was doing. If Rosa believed I fell, if Daniel started to wonder but had no proof, if the dress disappeared into the wash, there would be nothing left except her version.
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Daniel looked at me again. Really looked. And for the first time since he stepped between us, I saw doubt cross his face — not about me, but about her.
"Keep the dress," he said to me quietly, while Evelyn watched. "Don't wash it."
