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And then Fred couldn’t fill the tables in the West Side shop—first on weekdays, then weekends. Staff was walking out, abandoning ship for restaurants that could keep them flush with tips. I had no other choice but to fire Fred and step in, but it took a few months to get back up to speed. No way I had the bandwidth for a sixth shop.
George’s parting word whispers in my ear:karma.
OfcourseI knew when Sebastian offered to front the renovation costs before either of us had signed on the dotted line, I should have told him to hold off. Every time he’d call with an excited update on the latest investment, new windows and a new roof and floors, a new layer of asphalt on the lot or the top-of-the-line appliances he paid for out of his own pocket, I knew I should have put on the brakes. I watched it all happen, and I never once told him to stop.
His face when I bailed. God, I will never forget it, or the words he said to me over and over.I need this, Cam. I need this or my daughter will die.
I told myself he was exaggerating, that universal health care would pay for whatever treatment his sick daughter needed. I figured another chef would be enticed by the promise of a Lasky-grade kitchen and snap up my sloppy seconds. I was wrong on both accounts, and the truth is, I didn’t much care. I was too damn busy trying to keep my own ass afloat.
But I said it. God help me, I told him his dying daughter wasn’t my problem. And now Jade knows, and Bea knows, and they probably blame me for all of it, and they’re right to.
“Cam.”
Jade’s voice is loud and urgent, bleating in my iPhone’s speaker. My gaze snaps to the screen.
Jade is standing now, staring into the camera—the speaker on the wall. Her head is tipped back, the couch spread like wings coming off her shoulders, Beatrix on the far end. Jade’s eyes are big and wide.
“Cam, don’t come here. As soon as you do—”
“Shut up.”Sebastian’s body steps into the shot, moving fast, a blurry black blotch on my iPhone screen. “Don’t listen to her, Cam.”
He shoves her out of the shot.
“Don’t come inside!” she shouts. “He’s going to kill us either way!”
I swipe to another screen, searching for the bird’s-eye feed.
Sebastian lunges, and my screen becomes a jumble of sound, of bodies. I stare at it, gripping it hard enough to snap the thing in two, trying to hold it together, trying tosee, but my world has gone foggy with fury. Jade screams, then Beatrix. Nick dives for the wheel, jerking the truck’s tires back on the road, and orders me to let up on the gas.
I lift my foot and scream into the cab,“What is happening?”
I see Jade, sprawled across two empty chairs, her feet tangled with a squirming Beatrix’s. Jade scrambles to sit up, to protect our daughter, who is calm in a way that pierces my heart. With an unbothered expression, Beatrix leans over the armrest and reaches for her mother’s hand.
Sebastian stalks up to the speaker, talks right into it.
“Listen to me, Cam. If you ever want to see your family again, I’d advise you not to listen to your wife. Get over here, now. Bring me my money. You have three minutes.”
His lip is curled up on one side, his face red and ugly, splotchy in the high-definition, full-color camera, but it’s not his face I’m looking at.
It’s Beatrix’s.
Over Sebastian’s shoulder I take in my daughter’s cool stare, her clamped down jaw, the look of calm determination. It’s a look anybody else might mistake for boredom, but not me. I know Beatrix too well. This is the expression she gets when she’s steeling herself, gathering up all her courage, right before she walks onto an orchestra stage.
With both hands, she shoves her body to the edge of the oversize chair and pushes to a shaky stand. Feet planted to the carpet in front of her chair. She looks at her mother on the chair next to her. At Sebastian, still spitting mad, screaming into the speaker. At the side table, and a black smudge that looks just like—
“No.”
With helpless horror, I watch my daughter pick up the gun.
T H E I N T E R V I E W
Juanita: In the months since the home invasion, your daughter, Beatrix, has become an internet sensation. That still shot from the nanny cam footage of her sneaking out of the playroom made the cover of theNew York Times, and there are Facebook groups and fan pages and hundreds of GIFs and memes dedicated to her bravery and daring. There are Hollywood producers competing to tell her story, even talk of putting her face on a cereal box. That must feel...
Cam: Strange. Surreal. Bizarre. All of the above.
Juanita: I’d imagine it’s also a big invasion of privacy.
Cam: I’ll say. You people are pretty relentless.