Chapter 10: What Claire Carried
I called Claire back from the hotel that evening.
She picked up immediately, as if she had been holding the phone.
"Thank you," she said.
"Thank you for calling."
"I haven't decided anything yet," I said.
"Talk."
A pause.
Then: "I didn't know what was in the boxes."
"Claire—"
"I mean it.
Julian called me at five in the morning.
He said the house was going to be subject to a legal review and he needed me to collect some personal family items before the lawyers arrived.
He said it was routine.
He said it was just photographs and some of our mother's things." Her voice was tight.
"I drove out there in the dark, Genevieve.
I loaded boxes he had already packed.
I didn't open them.
I just loaded them into my car because he asked me to and I didn't think—" She stopped.
"I didn't think."
"Where are the boxes now?"
"In my garage.
I haven't touched them since I got home.
When the news about the preservation order came through on my phone, I sat in my car for an hour." A pause.
"I called a lawyer.
She told me to contact the AG's office immediately and surrender the boxes voluntarily.
She said that was the only way to protect myself."
"Did you?"
"I'm doing it tomorrow morning.
First thing." Her voice dropped.
"I wanted you to know before I did it.
I don't know why exactly.
I just — I wanted you to know."
I sat with that.
"Claire," I said.
"The night Hazel di— the night she was gone.
You and Julian were downstairs.
Laughing."
Silence.
"I know," Claire said.
"He said Ximena did the right thing.
He said I thought I could blow through family money."
"I know what he said." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"I laughed along with him.
I didn't know — I didn't understand what had actually happened with the medication.
He told me the doctors had done everything possible.
He told me it was the heart condition, that nothing could have changed the outcome." A long pause.
"I believed him.
I wanted to believe him."
"And now?"
"Now I've read the news about the investigation.
I've read what the financial records show." She exhaled.
"I keep thinking about that night.
About laughing in the hallway while you were upstairs with her ashes." Her voice cracked.
"I can't — I don't know how to—"
"You don't have to explain it to me tonight," I said.
"Genevieve—"
"Surrender the boxes tomorrow.
Tell them everything Julian said to you on the phone.
Every word.
And tell them he had them packed before you arrived." I paused.
"That matters.
It shows he planned it."
"I will." A silence.
"Is there anything — is there anything I can do?
For you, I mean.
Not for Julian.
For you."
I thought about it.
"There's a pediatric cardiologist," I said.
"Dr.
Marcus Webb.
He paid for a dose of medication out of his own pocket to keep Hazel stable.
He was never reimbursed.
I want him reimbursed, with interest, from whatever settlement comes out of this."
"I'll make sure of it," Claire said immediately.
"I'll put it in writing.
Whatever I have to sign."
"Good."
Another silence.
"I'm sorry," Claire said.
"I know that's not enough."
"No," I said.
"It's not.
But it's a start."
I ended the call and sat in the quiet of the hotel room for a long time.
Outside, the city moved on the way cities do — indifferent, continuous, full of other people's lives.
I thought about Dr.
Webb, who had reached into his own pocket for a child he barely knew.
I thought about Arthur, who had spent two years building a case he wasn't sure I would ever make.
I thought about my father, signing a document in good faith while Julian smiled at him across a table.
I thought about Hazel.
The weight of her.
May you like
The sparrow weight of her.
Then I got up, poured a glass of water, and called Arthur to tell him Claire was surrendering the boxes in the morning.
