Kathy gasped. ‘Oh no. Look.’
‘What?’ Maggie turned to see Kathy holding up the phone screen. Online was a news story dated last month, March 8, with the headline:
TECH MOGUL FLORIAN DESROCHES AND FAMILY KILLED IN PLANE CRASH OUTSIDE LYON
Chapter Seven
Noah, After
TRIAL, DAY 6
Noah watched as Linda hustled to the jury box, all five-feet-three inches of her, short but nonetheless powerful. Her navy-blue suit was tailored closely around her superfit frame, and she must have been a runner because she had fast-twitch muscles in her calves, which Noah identified from his days running cross-country.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Linda Swain-Pettit and I represent the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. In other words, I represent the citizens of this great state, or you. The purpose of a closing argument is to review the important testimony you have heard in this courtroom. The judge will tell you when he charges you on the law that the Commonwealth retains the burden to prove the defendant’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. I believe we have more than met that burden and I will set forth the testimony and evidence that supports my statement. Excuse me a moment.’
Linda strode to the trial exhibits, slid one out, and placed it on an easel. It was a whimsical selfie of Anna, grinning down against a clear blue sky, enlarged to poster-size. She had been such a pretty girl, with large blue eyes, prominent eyebrows, a longish nose, but a small mouth with full lips. Her light brown hair tumbled to her shoulders, revealing a fresh young face that was shaped like a Valentine’s Day heart. She smiled in a sweet way that showed her dimples, which normally reminded him of Maggie. Today Noah felt unsettled by the photo. It was directly in his line of sight, as if it were watching him.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, this beautiful young woman was Anna Desroches and she was only seventeen years old. She attended Lower Merion High School, where she was a junior. Anna is the reason we’re all here today, and I want to remind you that she could’ve been any of our daughters, sisters, friends, or neighbors. She was a typical teenager in every way.’
Noah kept his face a mask. Anna wasn’t a typical teenager in any way. He could never explain that to Maggie, but it was true. And only he knew how true.
‘And her young life was cut cruelly short, in the most heinous way you can imagine. She was murdered . . .’
Noah felt himself slipping away, unraveling time backwards, wondering how he could’ve missed so many cues, denied what was before his very eyes. He recalled the first time he’d thought to himself about Anna, that’s weird. He and Maggie had been in the kitchen after dinner. He was taking off his tie, and Maggie was loading the dishwasher.
Noah, I have news. I didn’t want to bring it up in front of Caleb. Maggie had been rinsing a plate. They’d had spaghetti for dinner, and tomato sauce ran red in the sink.
Bad or good?
Florian is dead. Maggie had put the dish in the dishwasher with the others. He died in a plane crash, of his own plane. Somewhere outside Lyon.
Are you serious? Noah had set down his beer bottle. He’d never wish death on anybody, even though he’d felt angry at Florian for what he had done to Maggie.
Yes, he remarried, and his wife’s name was Nathalie. He had two kids, boys, Michel and Paul. Five and three years old.
And the whole family died in the crash? That’s horrible. When did this happen?
March 8. Maggie had rinsed off another dish.
How’d you find out?
Online. I was walking with Kathy, and we looked him up.
What was the reason for the crash?
They think pilot error. Maggie had put the last dish in the dishwasher. The bottom of the sink had reddish globs of tomato, like human tissue.
Did he fly when you were married?
He was taking lessons. Maggie had hosed down the sink with the sprayer.
How long had he been flying for?
What difference does it make? Maggie had frowned, closing the dishwasher door. How would I know? What’s with the questions?
Right. Noah had caught himself gathering the facts, as if he were interviewing a new patient before he began skin, blood, or patch tests. It was an occupational hazard. My God, that’s terrible. You’d think we would hear about that.
How would we? Maggie had met his eye directly, and Noah had felt oddly challenged.
I don’t know. Forget it.
Maggie had softened, leaning on the counter. I mean, I thought the same thing, but how would we? I have no contact with him, and it’s not like it made the news over here. He’s just one of those rich guys who died in a private plane. Maybe the tech journals reported it, but I don’t read them anymore.
Noah had sipped his beer, eyeing her. How do you feel? You upset?
It’s an awful thing. Maggie had shaken her head. Nobody deserves to die, especially that way. And it must be so hard for Anna.
Right. Noah had put it together already. Do you think that’s why she called you?
Yes, and I understand that. I mean, it makes absolute sense that she would reach out to me after her father died.
But she didn’t say anything about his death to you?
No.
That’s weird.
Maggie had frowned. I don’t think so. I think it makes perfect sense, and so does Kathy. Anna doesn’t know if I knew or not and she probably didn’t want to tell me over the phone. You’re being critical, aren’t you?
Noah had let it go, but that was the first time he thought Anna had done something weird. Not wrong, not terrible, just weird. Since then, there had been times after that, each one slightly worse, and looking back now, he realized that those early incidents were like a case history of a patient. The first exposure to an allergen could result in a faint rash, a single raised bump, a brief shortness of breath. But then would come a second exposure with another symptom, more noticeable but dismissible by someone who didn’t understand its significance. Ultimately there would be a third or fourth exposure, with a symptom each time, incrementally worse, but the human body wouldn’t realize it was under lethal attack until it was too late.
Noah felt his gut twist. He had missed the diagnosis, and before he realized what was happening, Anna had destroyed him and his family. Yet he was on trial for her murder.
He should’ve claimed self-defense.
Chapter Eight
Maggie, Before
Maggie looked at her reflection in the hotel mirror. She was about to see Anna, all grown up. Maggie had on an outfit she had bought for the occasion, a white blouse under a navy V-neck with gray-wool pants, looking every inch the suburban mom. Her dark curls were reasonably well-behaved, falling wavy to her shoulders. Her eyes were an earthy brown and wide-set, emphasized by the good eyeliner, not the CVS brand, for tonight. She had a short, wide nose and dimples that punctuated chubby cheeks, since she was ten pounds over goal weight, which was no longer her goal. She felt nervous and excited, both at once.
Maggie grabbed her down coat, left the inn, and hurried down Main Street, adjusting to the cold. She passed the Maine Savings Bank, and its digital sign read 6:15 P.M. and 39°. The waning sun cut through the crisp air, and traffic moved at a civilized pace through the charming town of Congreve. The sidewalk bustled with young people and families going to upscale boutiques, funky restaurants and coffee shops, and an independent bookstore.
Maggie’s step quickened. She craned her neck to see if Anna was coming the other way. She wondered if she would recognize her, but she knew she would. She felt her heart hammering, and her mouth went dry. Suddenly she spotted a young girl hurrying down the street toward her, and her heart knew her on sight.
‘Anna!’ Maggie found herself running to her daughter, arms outstretched.
‘Mom!’ Anna’s eyes lit up, and she smiled, causing both dimples to pop, which melted Maggie’s heart.
‘Honey!’ Maggie reached Anna, scooped her up, and held her close, squeezing her like she’d ne
ver let her go. ‘It’s so good to see you!’
‘You, too, hi.’ Anna chuckled, uncomfortably, and Maggie held her away to look at her, trying not to cry or snot up.
‘Look at you! You’re so pretty, you’re gorgeous!’
‘Ha!’ Anna shrugged it off, with a giggle.
‘Yes, you’re lovely! God, look at you!’ Maggie squeezed Anna’s shoulders, blinking wetness from her eyes as she took in her daughter with a loving gaze. Anna truly had grown into a lovely young woman, her blue eyes large with thick eyebrows, like Florian’s. Her nose was perfect, and her cheeks were prominent, like Maggie’s, and her mouth curved into a broad smile. Light brown hair flowed to her shoulders, and the sun brought out her reddish highlights.
Anna chuckled. ‘You’re just going to look at me?’
‘Exactly!’ Maggie burst into laughter, feeling the warm rush of a happy memory, out of nowhere. ‘I remember combing that hair with a baby brush and clipping it with a pink plastic barrette! A bunny!’
‘Aw.’
‘It didn’t hold much hair, but it was cute.’ Maggie laughed with joy. She was here, with Anna. It was too much. She wiped her eyes with her coat sleeve. ‘Sorry, I’ll get it together soon.’
‘It’s okay.’ Anna’s eyes shone sweetly. ‘It’s nice.’
‘Thanks, well, it can’t be helped. It’s the Italian part.’ Maggie wiped her eyes and got her emotions in control. She didn’t think she would ever stop smiling. She felt great, whole again, thrilled to the marrow. Anna seemed pleased, if subdued, by contrast, but Maggie had expected that. Anna really was beautiful and tall, maybe five-eight, which she’d gotten from Florian’s side of the family. She had on a black down coat with an oversized Coach purse and a cobalt-blue totebag, with a CA for Congreve Academy.
‘We should go inside. This place fills up fast.’ Anna turned away, opened the door of the restaurant, and made a beeline for an empty table by the window, with Maggie behind her, composing herself. They reached the table, and Maggie took her purse off her shoulder.
‘This place looks great,’ Maggie said, looking around, getting her bearings.
‘It’s good.’ Anna shed her belongings, bunching her coat behind the chair, and sat down.
‘This is just wonderful!’ Maggie sat down opposite her, finally settling.
‘Thank you for coming.’
‘I was thrilled to, obviously.’ Maggie wiped her eyes with a cloth napkin. She needed a sip of water but there wasn’t any.
‘I’m glad you did.’
‘No, really, it was very brave of you, emotionally brave, to ask me!’
‘Not really.’ Anna pursed her lips, growing serious. Her smooth brow furrowed. ‘It’s just that I have so many questions, you know, about what happened with you. And why it happened, when I was little. I would really like to hear it from you.’
‘Of course.’ Maggie felt newly nervous, skipping the small talk.
‘That’s why it’s hard to, like, throw myself into your arms.’
‘Sure, right.’
‘I mean, there are questions.’
‘Right, yes, totally.’ Maggie nodded, sniffling. She had to get a grip. ‘And I want to explain everything.’
‘Good.’
The waiter came over, an older man. He looked down at them with a professional smile. ‘Would you ladies like tap or sparkling?’
‘Tap is fine, please,’ Anna answered, looking up. ‘And I’d like a Greek salad.’
‘Me, too,’ Maggie said, to get rid of the waiter.
‘You ladies are easy. I’ll be right back.’
Maggie waited until he was gone, tense. ‘Well, I guess I’ll begin at the beginning. I was so happy when you were born, I really wanted a baby girl and I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. But fairly quickly, I developed postpartum psychosis. Have you heard of it?’
Anna frowned slightly. ‘I’ve heard of postpartum depression. Is it the same thing?’
‘No, postpartum psychosis is less common, and I didn’t know what it was, either. Before I go on, I want you to understand this is not a reflection on you, because you deserved all the love in the world, and I did love you very much.’ Maggie had been about to say and I still do, but stopped herself. It was too much too soon for Anna, and Maggie didn’t know if she could explain to such a young person what it felt like to be a mother, how it was something that never left you, even if you lost your baby.
‘And to make a long story short, what happened was that one day I just felt in such despair and I thought I was such a terrible mother that you would be better off without me.’ Maggie fell silent as a busboy came over, poured two glasses of water, then left. ‘I heard voices saying “let her go, just let her go.” And that voice came to me one night, when I was alone, standing on our deck in the backyard. You were in my arms, crying. You had colic. I was at the rail.’ Maggie felt her heart begin to pound, going back to that evening. ‘And the neighbor saw me, she called to me and I didn’t hear her, I was in some kind of a trance. I was fighting with the voice, and the voice was telling me to let you go, to drop you. But there was still a healthy part of me that knew that I loved you and could never hurt you, and I knew that the voice was an illness that I had. A mental illness.’
Anna’s eyes widened as she listened, though she said nothing.
‘Before I knew it, the neighbor was standing next to me and I said, “please take this baby, she’ll be better off without me.” ’ Maggie felt tears come to her eyes, but she blinked them away. ‘And I told her to call the police and have them come get me. I knew I needed professional help. I committed myself that very night.’
‘Is this true?’ Anna tilted her head, skeptical.
‘Absolutely.’
‘Where was Dad, that night?’
‘He was working on his app, coding around the clock, when he wasn’t at school. He hadn’t sold it yet.’ Maggie didn’t add that Florian was never around, ever. It was as if she and the baby didn’t exist. She used to wonder why he’d married her, until she knew. He’d dumped her as soon as he got his graduate degree. He’d looked gleeful in the pictures.
‘Can you, like, prove what you’re saying is true? About the postpartum psychosis?’
‘Yes.’ Maggie hid her dismay. It was obvious Anna didn’t believe her, for some reason. ‘I had extensive treatment, inpatient, and then outpatient therapy and meds. And finally it resolved. It took almost a year.’
‘And is that why you abused me? Why you hit me?’
Maggie gasped, shocked. ‘What? No, never. I never abused you.’
‘You never hit me? You never beat me?’ Anna’s eyes widened, an incredulous blue.
‘No, never!’ Maggie recoiled. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘Dad said you used to beat me. He said that’s why you lost custody. The judge said you were unfit because you abused me.’
‘That’s not true!’ Maggie shot back, appalled. She’d assumed that Florian would have told Anna that she was crazy, but this was far worse. This was a total lie. ‘Anna, your dad really told you that?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s not true.’
‘Why would he lie?’ Anna’s eyes narrowed.
‘I don’t know. To win some power struggle?’ Maggie knew Florian. He always had to win. It was about ego and vanity. ‘Did he even mention the postpartum psychosis?’
‘No, this is the first I heard of it.’
‘Honestly, I was found unfit, but it wasn’t because I hit you. I never hit or abused you. I was ill, but I swear I never hurt you. I needed help, but I never physically hurt you or even neglected you.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really, I have court papers and medical files, too.’ Maggie felt panicky to defend herself. She couldn’t bear to have Anna think she’d been abused, not for another minute. ‘The custody papers show I was treated for postpartum psychosis. There were no allegations of any physical abuse, not even a single one! I didn’t –’
&n
bsp; ‘Could I see those papers?’
‘Of course! I could have them emailed to you, if you want. Anna, I never hurt you. I loved you.’
‘Do you swear?’ Anna bit her lip, uncertain.
‘Anna, yes, I swear. I loved you from the day you were born and I love you still.’ Maggie touched her hand. ‘I’m very, very sorry that I wasn’t with you, that you grew up without me, but I swear to you, I tried. I can show you how hard I fought for you in court. You sent me that letter, remember? You said you didn’t want me in your life.’
‘Yes, but that was because you hit me. Dad told me you hit me.’
‘But I didn’t. Ever. I only wanted to be in your life, to be your mother. Your mom. I promise you that, Anna.’
Suddenly the waiter materialized with a tray bearing the salads. ‘Chow time!’ he said brightly.
Chapter Nine
Noah, After
TRIAL, DAY 6
Noah watched as Thomas called their witness to the stand, hoping that he could help the defense, which badly needed it. Thomas had told Noah to keep the faith, but it was almost impossible. Still he held his head high as the witness was sworn in and sat down, adjusting the black microphone.
‘Please, state your name and address for the record,’ Thomas said, from in front of the witness box.
‘My name is Richard Weissberg and I live at 474 Marlin Road, in Haverford, Pennsylvania.’
‘Mr Weissberg, do you know Dr Alderman?’
‘No.’
Noah had never met Weissberg, who was of average height and build, with horn-rimmed frames that looked bookish on his round, friendly face, framed by dark brown hair cut in layers. He had on a dark wool suit and a silk tie, and Noah felt encouraged that Weissberg made a nice, reliable appearance on the stand.