Right away, Grace noticed that something was missing. Her daughter always wore a necklace with an anchor pendant that Grace had bought for her. Penny never took off that necklace except to clean it, but now it was gone, probably stained with blood and bagged and tagged as evidence.
“About time you got here.” Her daughter spoke in an acerbic tone. “Like Officer Charming here said, I could use something to change into.”
Despite the coating of blood, Grace couldn’t resist the urge to hug her daughter. As she approached with her arms outstretched, however, Penny raised her hands like two stop signs.
“Please, Mother,” she said, grimacing. “I’m absolutely disgusting. I wouldn’t think of hugging me. Get a grip, will you?”
The officer, who had remained in the room, spoke up.
“She needs to come with us to get changed. A female officer will take her clothes for evidence. We have a shower she can use. Your lawyer said I’m to escort you to another room so he can meet with your daughter in here, in private, after she’s cleaned up.”
“Okay, does that mean you can leave now so I can be alone with my mother?”
“Not right now, no,” said the officer. “When your lawyer’s here, I’ll wait outside the door. But not before.”
“Okay, after can I go home?”
The officer shook his head. “No, you need to be arraigned. Can’t do that at least until morning.”
“So I have to spend the fucking night in here?”
She spit the words. Most girls Grace knew, most anybody, would be quaking with fright in this situation, but Eve was hardly a typical girl. Her nature was to lash out and defend at all cost, which is why Grace intervened before her daughter could launch the protest she knew was coming.
“It’s okay,” Grace said, trying not to gape at her daughter’s horrific state. She thought of Navarro, strong and steady, his advice to take it one step at a time, and found comfort in that mantra. Keeping a short distance between them, Grace handed her daughter the plastic bag Detective Allio had already searched.
“Here’s your change of clothes, Penny,” she said. She wasn’t thinking when she spoke, but regretted it the moment the word left her mouth.
Penny.
Her daughter looked as though she’d been given an open-palm smack to the face.
“What the hell, Mother?” she snapped. “I’ve got blood all over me,” she gestured to her body, “I’ve been arrested, my wrists hurt something awful—the least you can do is get my damn name right.”
She presented her wrists to Grace as if that were the worst part of her deplorable condition. Sure enough, there were bright red rings marring her skin where handcuffs had been. Penny then turned to the officer standing close by and whispered loud enough for Grace to hear: “My mother might be on something … you know … something e-legal. You may want to check her purse before she leaves.”
The stoic young officer failed to restrain a reluctant smile.
“And just so you know, Officer Charming,” Penny continued, “my name is Eve. Eve Francone. I’m seventeen years old. I can tell you that, and I can tell you where I live, but I don’t have to tell you a damn thing if I don’t want to. I know my rights.”
Grace shivered at the precision of her daughter’s speech. It was as if she’d rehearsed the words in advance, knowing she’d need them. Then again, that was her job. Eve had always been full of aggression and rage. （Stay away! Back off!） In that capacity, she functioned as Penny’s guardian.
“We all have ‘Eves’ inside of us,” Grace had told Penny’s brothers in an attempt to put their sister’s DID condition into a more relatable context. “She’s the angry one who lashes out when you get cut off by an inconsiderate driver. Or the revenge fantasy of what you’d say or do after you get your heart broken, or you’re fired from a job. Eve is the girl you’d want on your side when you need someone to look after you. Now I’m counting on you two, her brothers, to look after her.”
Penny was always so reserved, so unsure of herself, and, at least according to one of her elementary school teachers, painfully timid. She would have shriveled like a raisin in the presence of any uniformed officer, talking in a voice so soft she’d have been asked to repeat every word. But this girl had no trouble holding court or expressing her needs. Now that Grace knew for certain one of her daughter’s alters had taken over, she would no longer think of this girl as Penny. No, this was Eve.