Chapter 5 - The Phone Call She Should Have Made
The dressing suite was too quiet. Outside the door I could still hear the gala, faint music and glasses clinking, but in here the marble floor didn't echo the same. Evelyn hadn't let go of the necklace. She held it in one hand and her phone in the other.
She looked at me on the couch where she'd wrapped a thick white blanket around my shoulders. My coat was hanging over the back of a chair, still damp.
"I'm going to make a call," she said, her voice low. "I want you to stay right here, alright?"
I nodded. My hair was still wet against my neck.
She stepped toward the tall window and pressed a contact on her phone. She didn't put it on speaker at first.
"Margaret, it's Evelyn," she said. "I need you to do something quietly. No press, no board. Just you."
I could hear a woman's voice on the other end, surprised. "Mrs. Whitmore? The gala is still—"
"I know where I am," Evelyn said. She cut her off, but not mean. Her hand tightened around the necklace. "I need you to find my daughter. Sarah Whitmore. She may be using Sarah Cole, or just Sarah. She would have been in Manhattan the last few months."
There was a pause. I watched Evelyn's back. The teal gown had a zipper all the way up that caught the lamp light.
"How far back should I look?" Margaret asked. Evelyn had switched to speaker now.
"Start with shelters. Church pantries. Employment agencies for restaurant work. Last known address." Evelyn glanced back at me. "Midtown. Queens. Check both."
Margaret's voice was steady, taking notes. "Do you have a photo you can send? Age, description?"
"Thirty-two. Dark hair like mine was. About five six. Slender." Evelyn swallowed. "She left her daughter with a neighbor two nights ago. The child is with me now."
I pulled the blanket tighter. Evelyn looked right at me when she said it, like she was asking if it was okay to say that part out loud.
Margaret didn't ask why. "I'll start calling. St. Mary's pantry keeps intake logs. The Queens housing office too. Give me an hour."
"Thank you," Evelyn said and hung up.
She sat down on the edge of the armchair across from me, not behind a desk, not towering. Her knees were close to mine. The phone rested on the armrest.
"Two nights ago," she said softly. "Tell me what your mom said before she left."
My throat felt dry. I remembered the apartment hallway, the neighbor's door.
"She left me with Mrs. Alvarez downstairs," I said. "She said she had an interview. At a diner in midtown. She said she'd be back by morning. She left the necklace with me for protection."
Evelyn's eyes moved to the necklace in her palm. The little locket was still open, the photo inside small and faded.
"She said it would keep me safe if I needed to find someone," I whispered.
"Did she say who?" Evelyn asked.
I shook my head. "Just that her grandmother had worn it. That it meant we were still family somewhere."
Evelyn closed her hand around it for a second, then opened it again like it was too precious to squeeze.
Her phone buzzed. She answered fast.
Margaret again. "Mrs. Whitmore, I have something. There's a Sarah Cole, date of birth matches your Sarah, last listed at a two-bedroom on 41st Avenue in Queens. Apartment 3B. Management says she was evicted ten days ago. Unpaid rent."
Evelyn closed her eyes.
"The super said she left with a suitcase and a girl's backpack," Margaret went on. "He remembers because the little girl wasn't with her. Next neighbor said she saw your daughter at the church pantry on 48th yesterday morning asking about a cot. St. Francis pantry, not St. Mary's. They told her they were full that night."
The blanket felt too hot suddenly. I pushed it down a little. Evicted. I didn't know that word exactly but I knew what it meant. We'd packed fast.
Evelyn's voice was very calm when she answered, but her fingers were shaking. "Thank you, Margaret. Keep looking, but don't send anyone to approach her directly. If you find where she stayed last night, just call me."
"Should I notify building security or—"
"No police," Evelyn said quickly. "Not yet. This is family."
She ended the call and just sat there for a moment, breathing. The gala music was still going outside, muffled.
She looked at me, and her face wasn't the gala face anymore. It was tired and wet around the eyes.
"Do you know the diner's name?" she asked. "The one where your mom's interview was?"
I tried to remember. "It had a red sign. On Lexington, I think. Near the bus station. She wrote it on a paper and left it on the fridge but we left before..."
Evelyn nodded like that was enough. "That's good. That's very good, sweetheart."
She reached over and pulled the blanket back up around my shoulders, careful not to touch my wet hair.
"Someone from the hotel asked if they should call child services," she said quietly, almost to herself. "I told them no. Not tonight."
I looked up at her. "Are you going to make me go somewhere?"
"No," she said right away. "You're staying here with me tonight. In this suite. There's a bedroom through that door and I will be right out here. In the morning we'll find your mom together. Is that okay?"
May you like
I nodded. My eyes burned again but I didn't cry.
She didn't put the necklace back around my neck. She set it gently on the little table between us, where both of us could see it, and left her hand resting next to it while the phone sat waiting for the next call.
