Page 59 of The Last Letter of Rachel Ellsworth

Chapter Fifty

Mariah found the train station overwhelming, but Henry seemed to know his way around, and they were settled without much trouble.

They had seats in an open compartment with little beds that pulled down for comfort, but they didn’t do it right away.

A family sat down the next section up: two little kids excited by the adventure, a tired mom, a dad who pretended to read a newspaper and played a game of peekaboo with the baby.

Veronica was bent over her phone, typing vigorously to someone.

“It always seems like it’s bad news when you’re getting texts,” Mariah commented.

Veronica laughed. “You know what? It always is. I don’t know why I’m still responding.”

“Do you want to talk it out?”

“No, thanks. It’s all stupid divorce stuff. Never any fun for other people.” She bent her head over the phone, her hair tumbling forward. It seemed more alive somehow, falling freer. “I can’t really ignore my daughter, even if she’s annoying me.”

Mariah nodded. It reminded her that she hadn’t texted Jill, so she did that quickly before they got moving. Henry had already told them not to expect Wi-Fi, but it was fine now.

Hey! I’m on a train on the way to Delhi. How was Christmas and everything?

A text came back immediately. Hey, stranger. Christmas was quiet. Jack is doing very well, so we’ll take that as the best Christmas gift ever. SO good to hear from you. Are you enjoying yourself? Did you read your mom’s letters?

Yeah. Just today. It’s a good trip.

How’s Henry? And Veronica? Did she turn out to be a good companion?

She’s really good, honestly. Better than I expected. I think she’ll do a good job on the book.

Glad to hear it.

Hey, wondering if my mom talked about what happened after her last letter? Did you send all the letters?

. . .

. . .

. . .

Mariah narrowed her eyes. Why was it taking so long?

Can I call you tomorrow? Jill asked.

I’d rather do it now?

She waited. The phone was in her hand. No dots. Some new passengers settled across the aisle, two young women with hennaed hands. They giggled together, sharing something on one’s phone.

Impatient, worried that the train would start moving, Mariah dialed her aunt. “What is up , Jill?”

“It’s complicated,” Jill said. “And I’m tired, and you’re so far away, and I just would rather wait to talk about it.”

“You’re freaking me out.”

She was quiet for a long minute. The train started moving very slowly. “Hurry,” Mariah said. “I’m going to lose you.”

“I’ll send the last letter to Veronica. There are—”

The call dropped. Mariah dialed again, but she didn’t pick up, or it wasn’t going through. Holding the phone, she asked Veronica, “Is your phone still working?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.” She held it close to her belly, as if to muffle the buzzes Mariah could still hear.

“Can you get online and see if Jill sent another letter?”

“Sure.” She opened the app. They started moving faster, out of the station and into the city.

Lights sparkled all around. Mariah saw into rooms, saw laundry on a line, and a woman cooking.

They passed a tall apartment building, most with lights on, and kept moving.

She called Jill again. Still didn’t pick up.

“Nothing,” Veronica said. “But I think I lost service. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I’m kind of worried about what happened to my mom back then. She didn’t want to tell me.”

Veronica held her phone in her lap, looking at her.

Henry sat next to her, reading his fat history book again.

His glasses made him look less like the wild photographer and more like an ordinary guy.

Getting old, too, she thought. Wrinkles around his eyes and on his neck.

He sat next to Veronica, and she thought, with a start of surprise, that they looked like they belonged together.

Not like a new couple, but one that had been together for ages and ages. As if they were supposed to be—

Ugh. A snap of irritation crossed her sinuses, the back of her neck. Restlessly, she moved her shoulders. “Whatever. She wants you to read the letter first.”

“Okay.”

Henry lowered his book. “Are you sure you want to know all this, kid? Maybe sometimes it’s better to let things go.”

“You’ve already said that.” She wiggled her leg.

“I didn’t come all this way to just drop it.

It couldn’t be anything that bad, because she was living a perfectly normal life.

” Beyond the window, the city shimmered, lights upon lights upon lights.

So many people in one city. More people in this one city than lived in the whole of some US states.

“And I know it’s not some mystery about my bio dad, because I wasn’t born until two years later and I already ran those DNA tests. ”

Henry raised his eyebrows. “Did your mom know you did that?”

“Yeah, I told her. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t have some weird genetic disease or something, but he’s an ordinary white guy in California she had a one-night stand with on vacation.”

Veronica gave her a quizzical look. “Does it bother you, that you don’t know him?”

“No,” she said, shrugging, and meant it. She nudged Henry’s shin. “This guy is the only person who ever felt like a father type.”

“Thanks, kid,” he said. “Ditto.”

“Anyway,” Mariah continued, “I think my mom wanted me to get to the bottom of this. It’s a big story in her life, right?”

“Yes,” Veronica said. “So how do you want me to handle the letter? You want to read it, or not?”

Suddenly, Mariah felt afraid, and she leaned back, curled into the corner. “I don’t know.” She reached into her pocket for an Ativan and popped it with a drink of water. “Who has the snacks?”

Veronica passed the bag over. “You are a bottomless pit.”

“Boredom eating,” she said, and pulled her earphones up over her ears, then tuned the world out with a playlist, watching the lights that never ended, until they suddenly did. She nibbled salty snacks and let the music carry her away until the Ativan did its job and knocked her out.