Chapter Fifteen
fifteen
AUGUST 2024
DAY 4 IN THE HOUSE
MADELINE woke up early in the morning so that she could go downstairs before Mā. She pulled a sweater over her head and gritted her teeth when it brushed the long gash on her left arm. The dull pain was persistent. There were smaller cuts. Her bruises around the cuts were purpling. It still looked ugly.
She made her way downstairs and pulled open the library doors. Miraculously, her mother wasn’t there. She crept toward the desk, which was piled high with stacks of papers. She picked through them gingerly. An old, stiff magazine was tossed to the side. Then she spotted the manila folder.
Everyone in this house knew something about her grandmother that she didn’t. Even Nora, who had apparently been trying to siphon information from her family all this time. And yet she saved you . Of all the things she could not figure out about Nora, this was what puzzled her the most: that after days of total silence, Nora pulled her free from the garden. Then scolded her and disappeared again, then told her they couldn’t speak to each other. The confusion had compounded over days into a kind of maddening frustration; she wanted to know everything that was going on in Nora’s head, but she knew Nora would never divulge anything to her. Her stoic expression revealed nothing.
Madeline plucked the manila folder up and set it on top of the other papers. There was the preliminary autopsy report; Madeline flipped through it. And then something stopped her. Finally, she saw the full-page printout of what looked like security camera footage. In the center of the page was a car that looked familiar to Madeline. A car that was parked outside right now.
She was looking at Elaine Deng’s car. And sure enough, the date and time marked at the bottom matched up with what Nora had told her: July 20.
Elaine had come to the house after all.
And from what Nora had said, Wài Pó had wanted her there.
But why? Maybe Nora was lying. Or maybe—
“What are you doing?”
Madeline spun around and faced her mother.
Mā’s eyes widened. She shut the door behind her and marched across the room to grab the manila folder.
“Why did Elaine come here in July?”
Mā set the folder on the desk. “Why do you think?”
Madeline was afraid to even say this part out loud. “You think that she came up here to…?”
Her mother nodded. “And now we know for sure.”
“Well, we know she came up here. We don’t know what for.”
“The autopsy places Wài Pó’s death around the weekend of July 20. The timing, Madeline. This, the tox report—it all adds up.”
“But Wài Pó called the lawyer to change the will. Not Elaine.”
“This shows Elaine here at one-thirty p.m. The will was changed at six. You don’t think Elaine could have broken in and forced her to change the will? Held her at gunpoint? Poisoned her to a state of delirium? You don’t understand that family. I do. They’re leeches. They’ll do anything to get this house.”
“What do you mean? What were they like?”
Mā drew herself up. “Elaine was always jealous of what we had. Everyone could see it. Even though Mā gave her family everything. She even paid for part of Elaine’s college degree.” She scoffed. “But it was never enough for her. Some people just can’t be grateful for what they’re given until they take everything you have.”
Madeline frowned. “But what if Wài Pó gave it to her? Didn’t she ask Elaine to come?”
“What do you mean? She asked Elaine to come?”
“I—” Now Madeline realized that she knew something Mā didn’t. An instinct she’d likely inherited from her mother told her to hold on to that for a bit. To feel things out first. At least until she knew what she believed. “I don’t know. I just assume it’s hard to break into a house.”
Mā looked around as though surveilling for an enemy. “Never assume. The nurse could have left the door unlocked, for all we know.” Suddenly she focused her sharp gaze on Madeline. “What’s wrong with your arm?”
“Oh.” Madeline looked at her arm, which she realized she had been holding horizontally against her stomach. She peeled her sleeve up a little, to where the scrapes showed. “That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. I was just walking behind the house, and—”
“Were you in the garden?” Mā’s voice rose. “Madeline, I told you to stay inside.”
Madeline felt, again, like a scolded child. “I know. But I was curious, and there were roses growing out there, so I went to see.” She stopped. What could she say next? That she was attacked by the garden? It felt ridiculous in this moment under Mā’s probing eyes, even if her arm did ache. She peeled back down her sleeve. She didn’t even want to show her mother the large cut.
“This is why I told you. No one’s been back there for decades. God knows what’s out there, animals or ticks. Stay inside. Okay? I can’t be worrying about both the house and about you getting scratched up in whatever grows out of that mess these days.” Mā’s eyelids fluttered. “And just… keep an eye on… that. If it gets worse, we’ll have to do something about it. But go get yourself some breakfast for now. I got some food from the store. I’m going to work.”
“Fine,” Madeline said curtly. “Let me help you.”
“I’ve got this under control. Don’t worry.”
Madeline insisted, “This matters to me. I’ve got nothing else to do. I’m losing my mind here.”
“Find something to occupy yourself. This case is delicate. I don’t need you in it.”
Case? A flush of rage came over Madeline. This was all it was to her mother, then? “Well, God forbid I get in the way of your big fucking case .”
The room was silent for a moment until Mā turned toward her. “ What? ”
“That’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it? There’s always some big case or campaign event. Nothing will ever matter to you more.” Madeline stepped back. Her eyes started to smart. “This isn’t a case. It’s our family. And you’re cutting me out!” Dimly she thought to calm down. But she felt wounded. She said quietly: “It’s exhausting being your daughter. I just ruin everything for you, don’t I?”
Mā recoiled. Madeline didn’t know what she would do.
“This is all for you ,” Mā finally spat. “I’m doing everything I can to set things right for our family.” Her eyes flashed. “You want something to do? Go apply to jobs and stop feeling sorry for yourself. I can’t believe I raised you to be like this.”
Madeline stood there for a moment, seething, before she stalked out of the library. She gnashed her teeth on the inside of her cheek until she could taste blood.
Madeline stomped through the silent house and up the stairs. The door to her aunt’s room was closed. Locked, probably. Madeline stood at the threshold, fuming. Trying, like she always had, to rationalize on behalf of Mā. She’s anxious. Grieving. Processing this in her own time. This is what she got for starting an argument. Hadn’t she learned? To challenge her mother was like starting a fire and putting her hand in the flame. She knocked on her aunt’s door with more force than she’d intended.
She heard shuffling inside, then the door opened. Aunt Rennie peered out. “Madeline?” She took stock of her niece. “Are you okay?”
“Can I come in?”
“Yes—of course.” Aunt Rennie wavered, and then the door opened wider. Madeline entered a room strewn with clothes. They hung over the bed frame and piled up on the white chair in the corner. The wallpaper was printed with a pattern of ferns. Her aunt had changed into baggy jeans and her hair was clipped up. A stained T-shirt lay on the floor. Aunt Rennie kicked it away. “What’s going on?”
“Did something happen in the house between Elaine and Wài Pó? Or something between your families?”
Aunt Rennie’s face fell. “What do you mean?”
“Please tell me the truth, Yí Mā. I want to know.” Madeline’s voice lowered. “There is security footage of Elaine coming to the house before Wài Pó died. But apparently she asked her to come. Would you know why?”
Aunt Rennie looked slightly bewildered. Then she sank into her bed. “I don’t know, Madeline.” Her voice was barely audible. “I really don’t.”
“Can you ask? Maybe Mā will tell you.”
Her aunt shrugged, although it looked more like a shudder. “What good would it do?”
“Don’t you want to know the truth? Doesn’t it bother you that my mother has shut both of us out of this?”
“That’s just her way of doing things. But she’s either going to win this fight or she’ll scare them into settling. I know she’ll get us the house back.”
“It’s not about the house.”
Aunt Rennie stood up then, alarmed. “What happened? What did your mother say to you?”
“She just—” Madeline’s breaths came out in short bursts. “She doesn’t trust me. I wanted to help her, and she said that I would ruin it. I’m just—always—another problem to her.”
Aunt Rennie folded Madeline into a hug. Under her aunt’s usual floral perfume, a stale sourness lingered. “I know what your mother is like,” she said quietly. “I know she’s difficult. But it’s just the family history. Some things are too painful to know about. It’s better you didn’t.”
What did that mean? “But it’s my family too. I hate feeling like the only person on the outside. I feel like I’m going insane here. I see things that disappear. I can’t make sense of anything.”
Her aunt peeled Madeline away from her. “What do you mean?”
“The vines in the library. I saw them, and then they were gone the next morning.” Madeline paused. She unfurled her palm, revealing the scrapes. “I was out in the garden, too. And it… it hurt me.”
Aunt Rennie stood perfectly still. There was a brief pause. Then she said, with sudden force: “Stay away from that garden. Didn’t we tell you?”
“Okay. But—?”
“Stay in this house. Or even just—in your room. You’re safer there. And we’ll leave soon.”
“Safe from what?”
“Just do as I say.”
“What’s out there? Does Mā know?”
Aunt Rennie’s dark brown eyes trained on her, but they took on a strange, fevered look. Her high cheekbones were flushed with color.
“She never sees anything,” she said hollowly. “Or believes anyone. She called you crazy. Didn’t she?”