Chapter Thirty-Nine
thirty-nine
AUGUST 2024
DAY 7 IN THE HOUSE
NORA faced her mother in her room.
“I told you one thing ,” her mother said. “To not speak to their family.”
Two, actually. The second rule was to never go into the garden. She’d broken that one, too. But at this point, what did it matter?
Mā pointed to her shattered phone. “Look at what they did. Lucille would have thrown us over the railing if she could. And look at what she did to you .” She touched the scratch on Nora’s cheek. “I’ll make sure they leave tomorrow if I have to drag them out of there.”
“I’m still going.”
“ No. You’re staying with me. I know this has been difficult. But once we’re free of that entire rotten family we can finally make this house into our home.”
It scared her how much Mā had changed her tune. Now she was going to force Nora to stay?
“I told you,” Nora insisted. “I’m not staying .”
Mā skewered her with a withering look. “It’s not because of that girl, is it?”
“What? I—”
“Are you still not listening to me? The rest of my family loved them. Worshipped them. My sister fell in love with Ada, and looked what happened to her.”
Nora’s stomach churned. “Sophie died because of Vivian,” she said slowly. “Ada didn’t do a thing to her.”
“It’s all the same. That family protects itself. If you love any of them, they’ll destroy you.” Her mother’s eyes widened. “Don’t you see what happened before?”
We inherit their history , Madeline had said, and now Nora’s heart stuttered. Whether they know it or not. “I didn’t know what happened before,” she said, “because you didn’t tell me .”
“I was protecting you! Who was the first to talk? You or her?”
Nora swallowed. “She was.”
“You should have told me that very moment .”
“And you should have told me everything !” Nora burst out. “You’re my mother. But it’s like I don’t know you at all. I didn’t know you came here to see Vivian. I didn’t even know you had a sister .” She whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me about—Sophie?”
Her mother’s expression went slack. Her hands fell to her sides. “Because it would have killed me to.”
Nora sat on the bed opposite her. Her mother seemed to shrink. Her expression was hollow. The strange, ferocious figure from the past few days regressed back to a childlike self in front of Nora’s eyes.
“Stay with me,” Mā pleaded. She reached out and clasped Nora’s hand with tears in her eyes. “I can’t lose you too.”
“Then tell me,” Nora said. She moved to kneel on the floor in front of her mother. “What happened the day you saw Vivian Yin?”
“Do you actually think I did it?”
Nora steeled herself. “I’m asking you.”
Mā put her face in her hands. “After Sophie’s funeral, I tried to put all of this behind me. I couldn’t live with myself—that I had left home, hadn’t stayed in touch enough to know what was going on and protect her. No one in my family could. We left the house so we wouldn’t have to be constantly reminded. It was—” Her mother’s fists clenched. “An accident. That’s all we knew. I couldn’t drive for years after that, because every time I would think of my sister and panic. Your grandparents had their own nervous breakdowns.” Her eyes found Nora’s now. “But I always thought that Vivian had something to do with my sister’s death. I just had a feeling.”
“So you knew that she was poisoned?” The horror of it cast a chill over Nora.
“I’d suspected,” her mother said. “I found dried flowers in her nightstand drawer and didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until years later, thinking back, that I realized I didn’t recognize them and had never seen them in the garden, so I looked up what they were. When I saw they were poisonous, I couldn’t figure out why she would have them. Neither her nor Bà would have planted them, knowing what they were, so I started putting it together. I told Mā that maybe it had something to do with the garden. I brought it up to Bà, and he didn’t believe it. Said he never saw the flowers. Even after all that happened, he still refused to think ill of Vivian. So I buried it. For years.” Her expression hardened. “Until Vivian found my number and called me.”
Nora nodded. “And you got the truth from her. You were right.”
“And it was even worse hearing it. But I needed to hear Vivian say it. I needed her to admit that she was responsible for my sister’s death.”
It all dawned on Nora now, this agonizing, embedded tragedy. The bitterness that had isolated her grandparents and her mother. “She confessed and let you record her.”
Her mother shook her head. “She never knew about the recording.”
“So you just—”
“I needed proof. For myself.”
“Then what?”
“I knew she was trying to ask me for forgiveness. And I told her that I would never give it to her.” Mā’s mouth set in a grim line. “She outlived everyone. She never had any consequences. There was no justice for my sister.” She lifted her eyes to Nora’s. “Before I left, she asked me if I wished she were dead.”
“And you said…?”
Her mother looked away.
“But you didn’t do anything to her. Right?”
Her mother’s eyes filled again. “But what if I still caused it?” As angry as she knew her mother had been, Nora could see the true pain in her face. “What if my conversation with Vivian that day made her end her life?”
MADELINE ran down the stairs and into the library. The doors were open, the room empty and dark. She stared up at the dust particles suspended in shafts of light.
Suddenly, vines surged through the cracks in the panels. They snaked upward and squirmed over the windowsills. The walls around her rippled and contracted, as if the room itself was alive. As if it were taking a breath—
She blinked again and there was nothing. Everything was once again still.
She marched out of the room, past the shards of Elaine’s phone left behind in the foyer. She went to Nora’s room and knocked. When there was no response, she knocked harder.
The door opened a crack, and Nora squeezed out the sliver of open space, shutting the door behind her.
“Are you okay?”
Nora nodded. The scratch on her cheek was raised and red.
Madeline reached for her, and Nora leaned in. But then she felt Nora still. “We can’t.”
“I don’t care what they say.” Madeline was filled with a wild, reckless rush. “They have no ground to stand on. They’ve been lying to us. You’re the only one who’s cared about me this whole time.”
Nora’s expression crumbled. When she looked back up there were tears in her eyes. “Don’t you see? All our families know how to do is hurt one another.”
“But we’re different,” Madeline said. “We didn’t even know some of these people existed! I won’t let my family hurt you again.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Nora’s voice was flat. “ We inherit their history. Remember?”
Madeline stilled at hearing her own words repeated back to her.
This time, Nora didn’t meet Madeline’s eyes as she retreated into her room. “We shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
Madeline stared at the closed door. This was all a mistake, then, to Nora. How could Madeline have assumed otherwise? She had fallen for her without a second thought. But Nora was never supposed to even acknowledge her in the first place.
Her family had destroyed the Dengs. This she could never answer for.
Madeline was halfway up the stairs when everything started to shake.
It started quietly, but soon became violent. Madeline stumbled, holding on to the wall to steady herself as the shaking worsened. Her knees buckled and she fell hard on the steps. The chandelier above her clanged. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember what she was supposed to do in an earthquake, but her mind was blank.
And then, just as abruptly, the trembling stopped.