Grace deflated on the spot. It hadn’t worked. Eve remained, and whatever had brought Penny forth that day wasn’t triggered by scent. A feeling of hopelessness welled up inside her, and Grace wasn’t sure if it was the ammonia or her disappointment making her eyes water. She tamped down her emotions in order to take Eve into her arms and give her daughter a proper hug hello. She didn’t expect any resistance, nor did she expect her hug to be reciprocated—which it was not.
Putting her nose to her daughter’s scalp, Grace inhaled deeply. Underneath the chemical fumes, her hair carried a familiar scent, calling up memories of a smiling girl in a bathtub with a hairnet of suds and one of her favorite mermaid dolls clutched in each hand. A sob broke from Grace’s lips. It was a surprise, but a relief, too, that Eve allowed her mother’s hug to go on.
Eventually, Grace gave up the struggle and allowed her tears to fall freely. They went rolling down her cheeks in salty rivulets, and it was a cry for everything—for Arthur, for Penny, for Ryan’s wayward ways, and for poor Jack, who was all but forgotten in the wreckage of her life. She cried for Annie, soon to be departing for Florida, and the world she had manifested for herself that was no longer hers to control.
Grace held on to Eve as her shoulders shook and the ammonia burned. She was about to let go when something brushed up against her back, stroking and soothing her. It was a phantom feeling, she decided, because nobody—not Mitch, not Eve—could offer her any real comfort in that moment. The touch intensified until she felt herself being pulled into a strong embrace, and only then did she realize it was her daughter holding her close.
With a gentle push, Grace broke the hold to gaze into her daughter’s eyes. They shone clearly like two pools of the purest water, not a trace of menace to be found.
As the smell dissipated into the hallway, Grace’s other senses sharpened. Now it was Penny’s stoop-shouldered stance and docile manner—chin tilted down, hands stuffed nervously inside the pockets of her Edgewater-issued pants, mouth dipped into a slight frown—on full display. Brushing a hand against Penny’s smooth cheek, Grace felt a warmth Eve never could generate, and her tears came again.
“Penny,” Grace said in a disbelieving whisper.
“Mom.” Penny’s voice came out rife with anguish. Grace kissed her cheek, hard.
“It’s so good to see you,” said Grace. She kept her movements controlled and to a minimum, as if anything sudden might scare Penny away like a deer sensing danger.
“What’s going on, Mom? Am I still here? At the hospital?”
Of course. Penny’s last memory would have been from her time in the emergency room.
“Yes, you’re still at the special hospital,” Grace said. “Let’s sit and talk.”
“It smells awful in here.” Penny took several big whiffs of the foul air.
“It’ll clear out, not to worry.” Grace didn’t want to leave the room and risk having Eve return. “Talk to me, tell me how you’re doing?”
Grace looked at Mitch worriedly as she guided Penny into a seat at the same table where, days ago, they had tried to eat lunch together.
“You remember Dr. Mitch, right?”
Penny nodded. “From the ER,” she said.
“He needs to record us for your treatment,” Grace said in an encouraging way.
Penny’s next nod was nearly imperceptible.
As she took her seat, Grace peered over at Mitch. Sure enough, he had his phone’s camera lens aimed directly at Penny. The small device did not completely block her view of Mitch’s face, and Grace interpreted his slack jaw and crinkled brow to mean that he, too, was struggling to process what he was recording.
Grace took firm hold of Penny’s tremulous hands. She didn’t know how much time they had together. A minute? Fifteen? A half hour? How long had Penny stuck around in the ER that day?
“Darling, it’s important we talk,” Grace said, her heart butting up against her ribs. “You told us some things the last time we were together, things we need to clarify.”
Instead of answering, Penny flung her arm into the air, bringing her palm down against the table with a smacking sound loud as a gunshot. It was a gesture similar to the one Grace had made in Navarro’s office. Like mother, like daughter. Concern tugged at Grace. Was a switch happening before her eyes? Had confusion and fear driven Penny away?
“I need to know why I’m here.”
“Penny…”
“Tell me, Mother.”