There’d been another baby.
I inhaled sharply. Becky had another daughter?
The world spun around Emma. She clung to the file cabinet, feeling as if she might fall and bring the whole room crashing down on top of her. Rapid calculations shot through her mind. Becky had left Emma when she was five—thirteen years ago exactly. Right around the time she would have realized she was pregnant again.
Jealousy and excitement fought for control in Emma’s mind. Becky had traded her in for this new baby. But the note said that the girl had been “taken” from Becky. What if her second sister was suffering through the foster care system just as Emma had?
Emma and I had the same questions: Where was she now? Could Emma track her down? Was she safe?
Then Emma took a deep breath. She could think more about her other sister later. Right now she had to keep looking for answers. Flipping rapidly through the notes, she found the most recent session at the back of the folder. Something had primed Becky for that fit.
… finally, we are making progress in processing Ms. Mercer’s guilt and grief. She admitted to me today that a few short months ago she actually met her first daughter in Sabino Canyon. It apparently did not go well. She still won’t tell me the entire story, but something happened between them that triggered this most recent episode.
Dr. Banerjee didn’t seem to have gotten anything more specific than that. There were a few more scribbled notes, including several medication adjustments that looked increasingly dire to Emma’s eye. She pawed through the pages, desperate for more.
A door banged loudly down the hall. She jumped and fumbled the folder, sending pages fluttering in every direction. Distant chatter grew louder as Emma lunged to gather the scattered forms. She shoved the folder back in the drawer and slammed it shut.
“I’ll grab Mr. Lindon’s file,” said a female voice in the hallway. Emma took a deep breath, then cracked the door and peeked out. A short dark-haired nurse was coming around a corner. Emma couldn’t leave now without getting caught. She looked around wildly, but there was no place to hide in the cramped space. Then her eyes landed on the door hinges and she realized the door opened inward. She flattened herself against the wall, silently praying the door wouldn’t open hard enough to hurt her. With a soft click, the door swung back against her. She held her breath. She could hear the nurse humming softly to herself. Dust tickled her nose—the urge to scratch it was almost painful. She clenched her fists tightly at her sides.
A drawer slid open, and Emma heard the sound of paper rustling as the nurse shuffled files.
Go away, Emma and I thought together. Get the files and go. But the nurse seemed to be taking her time.
The door pressed back against her as another nurse stopped in the doorway, leaning against it. “Hey, Marliz, there’s cake in the break room. It’s Huong’s birthday.”
“Someone’s got these files all jumbled,” complained the first voice. Emma gritted her teeth. She must not have put Becky’s file back where it belonged.
“Well, if that’s the worst thing that happens today, we’re in good shape.”
Marliz laughed. Her voice was high and girlish. “I guess it’s nothing compared to a breakout.”
Emma could hear the second woman step into the records room, lowering her voice. “Did you hear the latest about the Mercer woman?”
The words sent Emma’s body rigid. She bit down on the inside of her cheek.
“I heard that when they cleaned out her room they found a photo of her kid,” continued the second voice. “You know, the girl who was visiting when she flipped out? Anyways, they find this picture tucked away under her mattress. Except she had scribbled all over the girl’s face with a ballpoint pen, over and over until she ripped through the picture. Like she was trying to scratch her out or something.”
“Oh my God. Do you think she’s actually violent?”
“Who knows? I tell you what, Mar, I’ve been working on this floor for almost thirty years, and Rebecca Mercer is one of the worst I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand why her family can’t just keep her on her meds. Every time she gets off, it’s worse and worse. We couldn’t even get a complete sentence out of her this time around.”
“Don’t you think the daughter should know she’s at risk? A woman that crazy, there’s no telling what she’ll do.”
“I agree, but supposedly scribbling on a photo isn’t violent enough to merit breaking doctor-patient confidentiality.” The woman sighed. “Found that file yet?”
“Got it,” said Marliz. “Now let’s get some cake before it’s all gone.”
The door swung closed. Emma kept her back to the wall and slid slowly down to sit on the floor, her heart racing.
The nurse’s words echoed in her ears. Like she was trying to scratch her out or something. If the folder had been ambiguous, the photo made everything clear.
I had been a mistake, and our mother had finally figured out how to erase me.
26
YOU BETTER GET THIS PARTY STARTED
“That looks amazing,” Madeline said, watching Emma smudge slate gray eyeliner along her lid. “I love that color on you.”
The girls were in Charlotte’s enormous bathroom getting ready for the party. The room was decorated in gray stone tile and Caribbean blue glass. Fluffy white towels hung from the racks. Collages of the Lying Game girls hung in heavy frames on the walls—Sutton, Madeline, and Charlotte mugging in front of a giant fiberglass cowboy, the Twitter Twins making ironic gang signs in cocktail dresses, Laurel carrying a laughing Sutton piggyback.