Selena had never been single, wasn’t even sure what it would be like.
“And this woman?” said Beth. Another pour. “What’s that all about? You tell some stranger about Graham, but you don’t tell me?”
“It was just this weird moment in time,” she said with a wave. “Believe me, I regret it.”
“Well, cut that woman off,” said Beth. “Don’t talk to her again. That’s creepy, Selena. Is she like some stalker type?”
“No,” she said. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t answer her. If she texts you again, have Will step in. And, you know what, tell the cops about her.”
“How will it look now? Another thing I’ve kept from them.”
“Have Will do it,” she said. It made sense. That was exactly what she should do. Why did she feel a stubborn hesitation?
“Is Will your lawyer or is he Graham’s lawyer?” asked Beth.
She hadn’t considered that. The question opened up a hollow in her center. “I guess he’s our lawyer.”
Beth shook her head. “Girl, you need your own lawyer. Someone who represents your interests alone. Things are going to get ugly and you don’t want to be the one twisting.”
She nodded. What a mess. She felt tears come, but she pushed them back.
“You’re Iron Woman,” said Beth. “Don’t forget it.”
She wasn’t made from iron, far from it. She had never felt weaker and more vulnerable in her life. But she smiled at her friend, remembering the day in the woods. How scared they’d been, how she was sure she didn’t have the strength to get them through, how Beth had walked the last mile gritting her teeth against the pain. They’d made it then, through sheer force of will. Sometimes that was all you had and all you needed, just the mettle to take the next step.
“What now?” asked Beth.
“Pack up—my stuff, and some more things for the boys.”
“You’re leaving,” said Beth.
“What choice do I have?” she said. “I can’t stay here. No matter what happens next. I have to go.”
Beth nodded. “I’ll help you.”
When they were done, moving from room to room, gathering clothes, stuffed animals, paperwork Selena might need, they put the suitcases by the door.
“I’m here for you,” Beth said again as she held on tight to Selena in farewell.
But they both knew that all she could be was a voice, a loving face over a glass of wine. On the dark road ahead, Selena would have to find her own way.
Selena watched Beth duck her head and rush to her car, ignoring the reporters who followed. There seemed to be fewer of them. The news vans were gone. She felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe this wasn’t such a big story, with no body, as Will said, nothing solid except some dirty texts. Maybe it could still all just go away.
Beth waved from the car, and Selena waved back.
They’d agreed that Selena should take some time off work. Beth offered to keep her at half salary, but Selena declined. Her friend ran a successful small business. She wasn’t going to be a burden when she’d come on to be an asset. They had savings; she had her parents. She couldn’t work anyway, not with the boys and everything that might come next. Life was on hold. Maybe her job would be waiting for her when this was over. Maybe she’d do something else.
She sat again, knowing she had to call Oliver but looking into the dark fireplace instead, her limbs full of sand. She’d used up all her energy to pack. Should she turn on the television, see what they were reporting on the news? No. She couldn’t stand it. She breathed in the quiet a moment. Then, as she headed upstairs to make one last pass of the rooms, there was another knock on the door.
A muffled voice thought the door: “Selena, it’s Will.”
She let him in, closing the door quickly behind him.
“What happened?” she asked.
“They questioned Graham rigorously,” said Will. “He was consistent. They slept together. The dirty texts were just in fun, according to him. They’d agreed that sleeping together was a mistake, that they should stop. And he has no idea where she is.”
“Do you believe him?”
Will seemed to consider. “It’s not my job to believe or disbelieve. It’s my job to protect his rights and defend him if it comes to that.”
“Will,” said Selena. “Do you think he hurt Geneva?”
Will released a long breath, his gaze slipping away. “I don’t know, Selena. That Vegas thing, those texts—it changes how I see him.”
It wasn’t what she expected him to say, and the words landed heavily on her shoulders. He didn’t know what Graham was capable of doing to another person. Neither, it seemed, did she.
“I’ll take you to your Mom’s?”
“I need my car.”
“So, we’ll drive your car and I’ll Uber back to get mine.”
She wanted to drive alone, but she let him help her load the car with the suitcases, the small bins of books and toys she’d taken from the boys’ room.
Their room—Star Wars sheets, airplanes hanging from the ceilings, soccer trophies, action figures, shelves of toys and games—which she had decorated so carefully—seemed abandoned. The house, lovingly decorated—every drape and pillow, every hue of paint and placed object, curated by Selena. Without the energy of their bustling life, it all seemed cheap, empty, a body without a soul.
“Have everything you need?” Will asked.
She nodded, hefting a box, which he took from her. They walked into the garage.
The police had impounded the SUV that Graham drove Friday night. So there was only their Subaru in the garage. They loaded the car, and then they climbed in.
“Ready?”
“Let’s go.”
She pressed the button on the remote and the door opened. The growing crowd of journalists parted as the car pulled out. They were shouting, snapping pictures.
Will had coached her to keep her expression neutral and her eyes forward, betraying nothing of the roil within. She did that.
Where’s Geneva? What’s happened to the Naughty Nanny? Did your husband kill her?
They sounded like seagulls, clamoring and calling, their words nonsense. She was grateful for the dark tinted windows of the car. She was so tired, so numb. She could sleep for a thousand years.
“They can’t hold him much longer,” Will was saying. “There’s no physical evidence. They let Erik Tucker go. There’s no body or really any indication of foul play.”
“They can keep him there for the rest of his life for all I care.”
“Selena.”
The ride was smooth and quiet. She felt ensconced, isolated from other cars on the road, as they drifted down her street and away from the mob. No one followed them. They took the little-known back roads that wound and twisted to her mother’s house.
“Detective Crowe asked if I was angry, if I’d thought about hurting Geneva,” she told Will. “Like he thought maybe I had something to do with this.”
Will shook his head in disapproval. “You should never have talked to him.”
“I know.”
“What did you say?”