Page 32 of The Right to Remain

Another groan. “Can’t I have just one day off from dance?”

“Not dance either. We’re going away.”

“Away where?”

“Far away.”

Helena went to the closet and pulled a suitcase from the shelf. She placed it on the bed, unzipped it, and started to empty drawers, packing Austen’s clothes.

He sat up, confused. “Why are we leaving?”

She glanced at the poster on the wall over Austen’s bed. Mikhail Baryshnikov.

“Who’s your favorite dancer?” she asked.

“You know who.”

“Baryshnikov was Latvian.”

“Yes, I know. He danced in the Kirov Ballet in Leningrad. Like your grandmother.”

“His family spoke Russian, like my grandmother.”

“Do you speak Russian?”

“Some. There is a word in Russian that refers to people who run:bezhentsy. This applies to people who are running from bullets, from bombs, from dictators. There are people who run more gracefully than others, and who run for their own reasons, for their freedom to express themselves. Like the man you are named for. Your middle name: Mikhail.”

“Baryshnikov was a runner?”

“Bezhentsy. He ran halfway around the world in 1974. To Canada.”

“Why?”

She kissed him on the forehead, answering in a whisper. “We all run from something, from somebody.”

Owen was suddenly standing in the doorway. Helena started, nearly letting out a shriek.

“You scared me,” she said, collecting herself. “I saw you leave for work.”

“I came back. I forgot my laptop,” he said, and then he noticed the suitcase. His tone became harsh: “What’s going on here?”

“Mrs. Pollard,” said the prosecutor, bringing her back to the grand jury room. “Do you recall the conversation between your husband and his high school friend Justin Arnold?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Which conversation?”

“The one described in Mr. Arnold’s affidavit. I just read it to you.”

“Um, yes. I was there at the reunion when they spoke.”

“Do you recall what sparked their conversation—specifically, how they came to talk about the subject of suicide?”

It was coming back to her, even if she hadn’t focused on a single word of the prosecutor’s reading of the affidavit. “As I recall, the captain of the football team took his own life. It happened at some point between the twentieth and thirtieth reunion. Owen and Justin were discussing how tragic it was. Such a waste of a life.”

“Does your memory of that conversation comport with that of Mr. Arnold?” the prosecutor asked.

“In what way, exactly?”

The prosecutor read the key words from the affidavit. “Mr. Pollard said he—quote—‘would never commit suicide,’ end quote. That it was—quote—‘a cowardly thing to do.’”