They went back over to the reference desk and wrote out order slips for the material. The professor remarked that a woman who had secured a tenure-track position at a prestigious university would never give up that position, no matter her personal circumstances. She tapped her fingernails atop the stack of brittle newsprint while Liesl filled out the course details, the professor’s name, in pencil in her neat penmanship. A suicide is an awful thing, the professor continued. But a professorship is a rare thing that any woman would know should be gripped onto.
Back in the workroom, Liesl explained to Max which papers would be needed for the course. She rarely presented materials to undergraduate students anymore, though she had loved it when it was a larger part of her role. She offered to send him the link to the digital version of the paper she had used, and he recoiled, aghast at the idea of providing a digital alternative to something that was held in their collections. The fight wasn’t in her. She left as he was still lecturing her and walked back to her office, thinking of Vivek. Her jaw was sore from holding it closed tight. She began to type an email to Vivek but stopped. She picked up her phone and dialed instead. He deserved more than an email. He deserved to stay at the university. At the very least he deserved a phone call.
“Vivek. What are you doing?”
He didn’t say he was happy to hear from her. He didn’t say anything.
“I’m leaving,” he said finally. “I’m leaving.”
Liesl shook her head, though he couldn’t see her. Vivek leaving the university where he had tried for years to find a position. Liesl felt that she personally had failed Miriam by not preventing this from happening.
“It’s not what Miriam would have wanted,” Liesl said. “For you to leave what you’ve worked for.”
“Don’t you dare,” Vivek said. “You don’t know what Miriam did or did not want any more than I do. The only thing we can be sure she wanted was to die.”
Liesl’s bottom lip was trembling now, making her go for a long pause, a deep breath, and a change in tactic. She couldn’t think about Miriam and her last wishes. Not without thinking about Miriam and her last days and her own blindness to her old friend’s desperation. Liesl had spent weeks now with the image of Miriam waiting to speak with her on repeat. At moments she’d believed that Miriam had wanted to talk about Vivek, at times she wasn’t proud of she was almost convinced that Miriam wanted to confess the thefts, but she’d finally come to rest on the real answer. Help. Miriam had been reaching for a life preserver, and Liesl had never thrown it in the water.
“Why are you leaving?”
“Why would I stay?” he said. “What is there for me here?”
“A job you were excited about,” Liesl said. “Stability. The stability you need to rebuild your life after going through something terrible.”
“After causing something terrible, I don’t deserve anything,” Vivek said.
“You know that isn’t true.”
“I know I killed her,” Vivek said.
“The medical examiner would say otherwise.”
“If I bought a gun, loaded it, and put it in her mouth, but she pulled the trigger? Who’s the killer?”
“Miriam was an ill woman. A mentally ill woman,” Liesl said.
“And I abandoned her,” Vivek said. “They should arrest me. The police who were so focused on arresting a thief? They should arrest me. I’m a murderer.”
“They weren’t that interested, in the end,” Liesl said.
“They called her a thief.”
“Do you think you would feel better if there was a service for her?” Liesl said.
“Who would even come?” Vivek said. “People think she’s a criminal. People think she’s a coward.”
“Let me come see you,” Liesl said.
“I’m packing to move. It’s not convenient.”
“I’ll sit on a box. I’ll sit on the floor.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Vivek. Do it anyway. Let me come see you.”
“Not at the apartment,” Vivek said.
“Fine, I’ll meet you anywhere you like,” Liesl said. “Can I buy you a meal?”
“I’m not a child, Liesl. I’ve been feeding myself,” Vivek said.
“Then where?” Liesl said. “Where and when?”
“I was going to go to the library later,” Vivek said.
“Our library?”