Page 75 of Take Your Breath Away

“Sounds like that’s what it was,” I said.

Isabel drank from her cup. A little smidge of foam settled on her upper lip and I licked my own, trying to send her a signal. After a moment, she stuck out her tongue and got rid of it.

“You and I have had a pretty strained relationship since it happened,” she said.

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“I’m not sorry for anything I’ve done. Any actions I took were to get justice for my sister.”

I said nothing.

“But my mother, she thinks some kind of apology is in order. That if who we saw, and who she saw in the night, is really Brie, well, then, you didn’t do what we—well, me for sure—thought you did.”

“I see.”

“Just so you understand, it’s not me who’s apologizing, because I don’t know what the hell is going on. I don’t know, for certain, any more than I did a week ago, about whether my sister is alive. Maybe we just saw someone who looked, at a distance, like Brie, and she waved at us because we were looking at her. I don’t know. But Mom has come to a more definite conclusion.” She took another sip, this time avoiding any foam. “She asked me to get in touch with you, to ask you to come and see her so that she can tell you she’s sorry.”

I thought about what she was asking of me.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“What?”

“I don’t know whether I should do it. I might be accepting an apology under false pretenses.”

Isabel’s eyes went wide. “Christ, what are you saying? Are you admitting it? Are you confessing to me that you did kill Brie?”

“No, of course not. I’m not confessing to anything. But I don’t know who your mother saw, if she even saw anything. It’d be wrong to let her apologize to me based on a delusion.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Isabel said, looking fed up and frustrated. “Tell me you didn’t do it. Tell me you didn’t kill Brie.”

“I didn’t kill Brie. But I’ve told you that a hundred times since she disappeared and you’ve never believed me before.”

“Christ, just let her apologize for thinking you did do it.”

“Maybe the one who should apologize is you, since you’re the one who made her think that.”

“Look,” Isabel said, composing herself and bringing her voice down. “Albert thinks—we both think—that Mom needs this. Her prognosis is bad. She could go today, tomorrow, maybe a month from now. God, she could pass on before we get to the hospital. She’s got some reason to hope her daughter isn’t dead, and maybe it’s okay if she goes to her grave with that. Even if it turns out not to be the case. And part of that involves making things right with you.”

I drank some more of my latte, finishing it.

“Okay,” I said.

I followed Isabel’s car to the hospital and went up to the room with her. Elizabeth was awake when I walked in.

I hadn’t seen her in person in nearly six years. In the early days of Brie’s disappearance, I’d been in regular contact with Elizabeth and both of Brie’s siblings, comparing notes, sharing what few leads there were, making joint appearances on the local news pleading for information.

But as Detective Hardy narrowed her list of suspects to, well, me, and she let it be known I was her prime suspect, Elizabeth distanced herself from me. She’d take my calls at first, but as Isabel continued her attacks, my mother-in-law stopped having anything to do with me.

I couldn’t really blame her. It’s hard to be nice to your son-in-law when you’ve been brainwashed into believing he killed your daughter.

My memory of her was of a strong, vibrant, independent woman, so it was something of a shock for me to see her today, how the disease had ravaged her. She’d lost probably sixty pounds, and she never had a lot of meat on her to begin with. The skin on her arms looked more like crepe paper, and her cheeks appeared to have melted around the bone. But there was still something very Elizabeth about her, and that was her eyes. She’d always had beautiful blue eyes, and they hadn’t changed. Still that lovely aqua color, piercing and insightful.

She smiled when she saw me, and that brought back memories, too. Her smile, always genuine, radiated affection. Even now.

“Andrew,” she said. “It’s so good to see you.”

I knelt over her as she lay in her bed, and slipped my arms around her frail, emaciated body.