Chapter 8: Parking Lot After Midnight
I sat in my car with the engine off and my hands on the wheel.
The parking lot behind the Whitmore estate was gravel and the catering vans had packed it down. My old Civic ticked as it cooled. I hadn't turned the heat on. My scrubs were still damp under the arms from running up the stairs with Leo and then standing in that foyer with Vanessa's diamonds in my face. Through the windshield I could see the back of the mansion glowing. Every window was warm light and the caterer's string lights were still up along the tent. Bass from the band thumped faintly through the glass. It was 12:47 on the clock.
My tote was on the passenger seat. The caterer, Jen, had walked me out the side door herself. She'd kept her hand lightly on my elbow like I was the guest. She'd said, "Take a minute, hon," and then left me there. I hadn't cried in the foyer and I wasn't going to now, but my throat was raw and my hands wouldn't stop shaking.
I pulled out my phone. My mom picked up on the third ring. She always did, even late.
"Hey, baby," she said. Her voice had that sleep in it. "You still at that party?"
I told her I was in the parking lot. I told her exactly what I'd said because I needed to hear it back. "I told her, 'You will not touch him again. You will not touch him again. And right now, he's the only human left in it. Enough.' I said it loud, Mom. In front of everyone."
She was quiet for a second. I could hear her shifting in bed in Dayton, probably sitting up.
"Good," she said.
"I might lose this job," I said. The air in the car was getting cold and I could see my breath. "If they fire me, the agency will pull my contract. I've got forty-two thousand in student loans and rent due next week and I don't have another private case lined up. I shouldn't have said it like that. I should have taken Leo upstairs and charted it."
"Sarah," she said, and she said it the way she used to when I was in nursing school and called her crying after a clinical. "Did she hurt him?"
"She grabbed his arm to make him wave for donors," I said. "He was already melting down. You know how he gets when he's overstimulated. She yanked him."
"Then enough was the right word," she said. "You know it was."
I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel. The plastic was cold. "What if they say I overstepped? What if they say I'm just the nurse?"
"You are just the nurse," she said, not unkindly. "That's why you were the only human left in it."
I laughed then, a short broken thing that fogged the windshield. I wiped at my eyes with the heel of my hand. My mom told me to keep my phone on and to drive safe if I left. I told her I loved her and hung up.
The phone buzzed almost immediately in my lap. It wasn't my mom.
It was an unknown number with a 614 area code. Text preview: Please come back, Leo is asking for you
I opened it. The contact filled in as Daniel Whitmore at the top. He'd never texted me before. In eight months everything had gone through Vanessa or the agency portal. Even schedule changes came from Vanessa's assistant.
Please come back, Leo is asking for you. Side door is open. - Daniel
I read it three times. My first thought was that Vanessa had told him to send it, to make me feel guilty and then document that I trespassed. My second thought was of Leo's room. I'd left him with the night nurse, Melissa, but Leo didn't do well with handoffs when he was already agitated. He asked for people in one way — he stood at the door and vocalized, or he brought you his weighted dinosaur.
I looked at the mansion again. The main ballroom was still bright. A few couples were leaving out the front, coats over tuxedos and gowns, laughing too loud. I didn't see Vanessa's white dress among them.
I texted back: Are you sure? Vanessa told me to leave.
Three dots appeared. Then: I know. Please. For him.
That was the difference. He didn't say for us. He didn't say for me.
I got out of the car. The gravel crunched under my sneakers. The night air was sharp after the warm house and I shoved my hands into my scrub pockets. I didn't bring my tote. I left it locked in the trunk.
The catering entrance on the east side was propped open with a rubber doorstop, just like he'd said. The kitchen was clattering and a busser pushed past me with a stack of plates without looking. I slipped down the back hall the way I'd gone a hundred times with laundry or Leo's sensory bin.
The main foyer was empty now, the chandelier dimmed. The gold-framed painting I'd seen over Daniel's shoulder earlier looked dull without the crowd. Upstairs, Melissa was standing outside Leo's door when I reached the second floor.
She looked relieved and exhausted. "He woke up about ten minutes after you left," she whispered. "He's been pacing. He keeps going to your chair."
Vanessa's bedroom door at the end of the hall was open and dark. Her overnight bag was gone. Her jewelry case on the dresser was empty.
"Where is she?" I asked.
Melissa glanced down the hall. "After-party in Columbus. Daniel said she left at midnight. Car service."
Inside Leo's room the nightlight was on, that soft warm glow we'd kept consistent. Leo was in his pajamas, barefoot, walking the perimeter of the room the way he did when he couldn't settle. He didn't look at me when I came in, but his shoulders dropped a half inch. He made a low hum, not quite a word.
I knelt down so I wasn't towering over him. I didn't touch him until he came to me.
May you like
Then he walked straight to me and pressed his forehead hard against my shoulder, the way he always did when he needed pressure.
I put my hand on his back and breathed with him.
