Chapter 3
The morning they were supposed to leave, Emma had her luggage by the door at six a.m.
Two suitcases. One packed for California, the other filled with books she was bringing to Boston. Caleb had promised to pick her up at six-thirty, but the clock hand passed seven and there was still no sign of his car downstairs.
At 7:12, he finally called.
"Emma, my dad had a heart attack. I'm on my way to the hospital right now."
Emma gripped the phone. "Which hospital? I'll come."
"No need. The ambulance is still en route. Just wait at home. I'll be back as soon as I'm done. A few hours' delay on the trip won't matter."
The background on his end was silent. No ambulance sirens. No sound of Mrs. Mercer crying.
Caleb's answer came too quickly, too decisively.
"Take care of your dad." Emma said. "Let me know when you get to the hospital."
"I will. Don't worry. Wait for me."
After the call ended, she sat by the door for ten minutes, then dialed Mr. Mercer's number.
He answered quickly, voice carrying the breathlessness of a morning jog. "Emma? Everything okay this early?"
"Uncle, your heart…"
"My heart?" He laughed. "The doctor said last month I'm fit enough to play baseball for another twenty years. I just finished a five-K."
Emma looked at the now-dark phone screen.
Mr. Mercer was still asking whether she and Caleb had left yet. She only said something had come up temporarily, then hung up.
She walked to the dining table and opened the travel folder Caleb had left behind last night. Beneath the hotel reservations was a white notice bearing the county courthouse seal in the upper right corner.
Sloane Bennett. Hearing: DUI and Property Damage. 9:00 a.m.
Caleb had said his father was sick — just so he could accompany Sloane to court.
Emma didn't call him again. She photographed the notice, grabbed her car keys, and drove downtown alone.
The courthouse parking lot was full. She'd just climbed the front steps when she spotted Caleb standing by a side door, two coffees in hand. Sloane wore a pale dress, eyes red, clutching his arm tightly.
"If the school finds out, I'm finished." Sloane said quietly.
"Let's go inside first." Caleb handed her the coffee. "The lawyer says there's still a chance."
Emma stood behind a column. She didn't step forward.
A guy in a baseball cap came out the side door and clapped Caleb on the shoulder. "You really ditched your graduation trip? Emma didn't lose it?"
Caleb glanced around. His tone held not a trace of concern.
"She can take care of herself. She's been like that since we were kids — even when she's mad, she won't really make a scene. The trip's canceled. She'll give me the silent treatment for a few days at most."
"But you lied to her first this time."
"Once this is over, I'll buy her a bag and smooth it over." Caleb smiled. "She won't let go of three years together. And definitely not eighteen years of history."
Sloane kept her head down, but the corner of her mouth relaxed slightly.
Emma lowered her gaze and opened the airline app.
Cancel rental car. Confirm.
Cancel two coastal hotels. Confirm.
The beach cabin was marked non-refundable. She looked at it for two seconds, then pressed cancel anyway. She noted the loss in her memo app.
Finally, she canceled both tickets to San Francisco and recorded the penalty fees.
Then she emailed the director of MIT's new student research project, asking whether she could report early. In less than five minutes, he replied: housing could be arranged, the lab opened Monday.
She booked a one-way ticket to Boston for that evening.
After finishing, Emma opened her contacts. Caleb's name still sat at the top, his photo a shot of them together at high school prom. She didn't send an interrogation or throw the recording at him. She simply blocked his number, all social accounts, and email.
Sloane too.
The courthouse side door opened. Sloane's name was called.
Caleb helped her inside.
Emma turned and descended the steps.
At 8:47 a.m., Caleb still thought she was sitting in the apartment waiting for him.
She drove back to the building and pulled the empty suitcase she'd packed for California from the trunk.
