“I know, buddy. I know.” She rocked him, but she didn’t know if the gesture was to soothe him or her. That prickle in her neck was spreading throughout her body. “She was so good to you. She always played games with you.”
“I’m sorry, Mommy. Am I going to be punished now?” Annie heard his words, but it was the way he said them, something in his tone, that felt off.
Blood roaring in her ears, Annie pulled away so she could look into Finn’s eyes. And when all she saw was her sweet little boy and not a miniature sociopath in the making, she made a decision. “You did nothing wrong. Okay? It was an accident. What happened to Lindsay was an accident.”
She would help him through this, tell his therapist what he’d just confessed to her, and they would all help him get past this. He was just an innocent little boy. When he finally nodded and wrapped his little arms around her, she pulled him close, feeling his heart beat against her. And if that seed of doubt had planted itself into the very back of her mind that he was Serena’s child and taking after her, she steeled herself and willed it away, not wanting to let it take over her thoughts. She would defeat it.
When Finn ran back into the water, Annie slowly stood. She looked at the rock wall and walked in the direction Finn had pointed. As she drew closer to the large black rocks, she saw a fresh mound of sand. Using her foot, she brushed at it and found Hot Chocolate, facedown and soaking wet, buried in the sand. Her breath caught and her heart tripped when she saw all the small rocks Finn must have piled on top of Hot Chocolate, as if weighing him down. Finn had “drowned” Hot Chocolate, just like Serena and her mother had drowned.
Annie tried to return to her normal life. She’d left Hot Chocolate at the beach, and Finn hadn’t mentioned the bear again. She’d told Finn’s therapist about it, and he’d reassured her that it could be a way for Finn to process his guilt over what had happened with Lindsay. But he suggested they keep an eye on him, watch for any warning signs. Annie hadn’t been able to speak. She’d gone home and googled the list the therapist had given her. And found a whole new world to obsess over as she thought back to the lies Finn had told so easily in the past. She hadn’t told Brody about the Hot Chocolate incident. She would watch him closely herself.
But as much as she tried to forget about Serena and her delusions, she just couldn’t get everything that had happened lately out of her mind. When she and Finn took Marley on walks, she’d find herself staring at him, looking for any resemblance to Serena. When she picked him up from preschool, she’d watch the way he interacted with the other children. （Was he detached? Was it normal to not react when all the other kids were clapping and singing?） And when someone at Safeway remarked how much he looked like her while they were grocery shopping, she’d smiled, but then studied his face, wondering if he really was her son.
Had Serena been delusional? Or was she right, and Finn wasn’t Annie’s? Was that why Annie had always had trouble bonding with him? Had Annie’s real child died when he was almost one, possibly killed by Serena? She grew frustrated, often admonishing herself out loud to stop it. Stop letting Serena’s words worm their way into her mind.
Pollie had come across Annie berating herself one day at the shelter and laughed. “You yelling at yourself now?” Annie had clamped her lips together, embarrassed. Even though Serena was gone, she continued to haunt Annie’s days and nights until Annie couldn’t take it anymore. She had to know for sure if Finn was hers.
While Finn was in preschool one day, Annie googled maternity tests. She could do the test at home and send it off in the mail, getting the results in one to two business days after the company received the samples. She ordered a kit without telling Brody. She’d simply do the test, prove Serena wrong and that Finn was hers, and then she could put this chapter of her life behind her and never think about Serena and her delusional stories again. She refused to contemplate what she would do if the test proved Serena right. It just wasn’t a possibility.
The day after she ordered the kit, Annie and Brody took Finn out on the Wailua River on two paddleboards, at the therapist’s suggestion. The river was calm, all the debris from the storm gone. It was hard to believe this was the same river that had taken Serena’s life. Annie didn’t want Finn to be afraid to go out on the river after that night—hence this trip. She knew he would feel safe on Brody’s board with him. They paddled out away from their dock and around the bend with nothing but the mountains surrounding them. The river was quiet, only a couple of kayakers off in the distance. She pushed the paddle into the water hard, needing the physical activity to keep the slight tremor in her hands at bay. Finn wasn’t the only one who needed to get over his fear of the river after that night.
Brody put his paddle down once they were in the middle of the ocean and dived into the river, making Finn squeal. He jumped in after Brody, bobbing up from his life vest. Annie studied her little boy from her board, squinting in the sunlight. He’d gone in with no fear or hesitation. Was that normal after what had happened on the river that stormy night?
Annie watched as Brody swam back to the paddleboard so they wouldn’t lose it. She put her own paddle down sideways across the board, sliding one end under the bungee cord. She stood again and gazed across the river. It was so peaceful here, much like the lake in New York.
While Brody and Finn frolicked in the water, she itched to move, to stop the thoughts in her mind. She wanted to dance again, like she’d once done every day. Shifting her body weight until it was mostly in her right leg, she extended her left leg behind her. Pointing her toes, she lifted her arms up, taking a tendu back position on the board. When she was dancing professionally, she’d had the best balance of anyone in the ballet company. She wasn’t the best dancer, oh no. She was too short, or too fat, not talented enough, according to the artistic director. But even he couldn’t fault the “little Asian girl” who could balance on one foot in arabesque en pointe for what seemed like forever.
Slowly, testing her balance, she lifted her back leg in an arabesque, humming the tune to “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” from The Nutcracker. As her back leg rose to hip level, her confidence returned, fingers poised, chin up. For one glorious, perfect moment, she was balanced in arabesque on the paddleboard, imagining she could hear the applause from the audience.
But then Finn shouted to her and she jerked in reaction. Arms flailing, she tried to regain her balance, but she wasn’t on a sturdy dance floor. She was on a rocky paddleboard that swayed with each flail, and she knew she was going over. She let out a scream as she tried to launch herself away from the board so that she wouldn’t hit her head on it. Her last image before she splashed into the river was of Finn and Brody just a few feet away, watching as she plunged into the water.
Annie came up sputtering, pushing her hair out of her eyes.
“Are you okay?”
Brody’s voice was laced with laughter, and she could hear Finn hooting at her. Water stung her eyes, and her hair was plastered to her face. She groped out and one hand connected with her board. Pulling herself forward so that her arms and upper body were draped over the board, she finally blinked enough to be able to peer out through the strands of her black hair. She turned and saw her husband grinning widely at her.