Chapter 71
THEN
After I was sure my father was dead, I covered Cess in her blue silk bathrobe.
The idea of the police finding her naked was too much for me.
I found a pillow, turned her neck carefully, and rested her head against it.
I smoothed her hair. All of these actions—tampering with her body—looked very bad for me in court later, but I’ve never regretted it.
Cess would have done the same for anyone.
I left my father in a pool of his own blood.
Then I went to find Daphne. To say goodbye.
I knew what was going to happen to me. Of course I knew. Daphne refused to believe it. She wanted to fight. But I’d been fighting too long.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Don’t forget: I’m Mad Mabel.”
I tried to smile, to be brave. But Daphne didn’t smile.
“I hate that name,” Daphne said, as I stood to leave. “It doesn’t fit at all. To me you’ll always be Maybelline.”
She smiled at me, through tears, and we hugged.
Then I went outside. Daphne came to the window to wave.
As I waved back, I thought of that night at the hospital when I tried to conjure up Katie Maurice in the window, just like Anne did, in Anne of Green Gables.
A few days later, Daphne appeared, just like she did when I was in kindergarten and desperately needed a friend.
She was a mirage, an answered prayer. She appeared as if by magic.