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Once outside, Hannah and Nas walked towards the same place in unison: the lake. As she walked, she scanned the side streets warily, as if their father might appear from somewhere, no longer angry and willing to go home. But she saw nothing, just a few parked cars.
Yet Hannah's instincts were always spot on. After driving out of the driveway, James was also attracted to the lake. He circled it several times, Marilyn's words still ringing in his ears. Kowtow to the police. The words kept echoing in his mind, and he could hear the undisguised disgust and contempt in her tone. But he couldn't blame her. How could Lydia be happy? Li is very visible in school, yet few people seem to know her. The possibility of suicide cannot be ruled out. He passed the pier, where Lydia might have climbed aboard, passed the little street where his house was, which ended in a dead end, passed the pier... somewhere in the middle of this circle, stood his daughter. , without friends and alone, she must have jumped into the water in despair. "Lydia is happy," Marilyn said. "Someone has to be responsible." Someone has to be responsible, James thought, and he felt as if a stake was lodged in his throat. He never wanted to see the lake again, and then he remembered that he Where to go.
He thought of the words he had practiced so many times this morning, the words that were on his lips when he woke up, and he was going to say to Luisa: "This was a mistake. I love my wife. This can't happen again." Go on." However, when Louisa opened the door, what came out of his mouth was: "Please." Louisa opened her arms tenderly, generously, and miraculously.
In Louisa's bed, he couldn't stop thinking about Lydia—the headlines, the lake, what Marilyn was doing at home, and who was responsible. He tried to focus on the curve of Louisa's shoulders, her pale smooth thighs, and her dark hair, which kept brushing against his face. Afterwards, Luisa hugged him from behind, treating him like a child, and said, "Stay." He agreed.
What Marilyn does at home is pace angrily around Lydia's room. The police obviously thought this way: "There is no evidence that there was anyone else on board besides her." "Do you think Lydia was a lonely child?" This is obvious, and James agrees. But her daughter may not be so unhappy. Her Lydia was always smiling and always eager to please. Of course, mom. I do, Mom. As for saying she would do something like that herself—no, she loved them too much to do that. Every night before Lydia went to bed, she would go to Marilyn wherever she was—the kitchen, the study, the laundry room—and look her in the face and say, "I love you, Mom. See you tomorrow." Even that last night , she also said - "See you tomorrow" - Marilyn quickly hugged her and patted her shoulder: "Go to sleep, it's late." Thinking of this, Marilyn collapsed on the carpet. If she had known, she would have hugged Lydia a little longer. She would kiss her, put her arms around her, and never let her go.
Lydia's schoolbag was still spread out on the table. After the police investigated the situation, they left it there intact. Marilyn lifted her bag onto her lap. It smelled like erasers, pencil shavings, and peppermint gum—the smell of cute schoolgirls. In Marilyn's arms, the books and binders in the canvas bag seemed to become bones and flesh under her skin. She shook the bag and wrapped the straps around her shoulders, letting its weight hug her tightly.
At this moment, she saw something in the half-open zippered pocket on the front of her schoolbag, a red and white flash of light. Beneath Lydia's pencil case and a bundle of index cards, a tear appeared in the lining of her bag. The crack was small enough to escape the eyes of the police, but not enough to escape the scrutiny of my mother. Marilyn reached in and pulled out an open pack of Marlboro cigarettes. There was something else underneath the pack: an open pack of condoms.
She dropped both items as if they were terrifying vipers and shoved her bag aside. They must be someone else's, she thought; they couldn't be Lydia's. Her Lydia doesn't smoke. As for condoms…
Marilyn couldn't bring herself to believe it. On the afternoon of the first day after the accident, the police asked: "Does Lydia have a boyfriend?" She replied without hesitation: "She is only sixteen years old." Now, looking at the two small boxes pocketed in her skirt , Marilyn's original impression of Lydia's life - once so clear and clear - became blurry. She lay dizzy on Lydia's desk. She must find out what she doesn't know. She wanted to keep investigating until the truth came to light, until she fully understood her daughter.
By the lake, Nath and Hannah sat on the grass, staring silently at the water, hoping to get the same revelation. Normally in the summer, there would be a group of children playing in the water at the pier almost every day at this time, but today, it was deserted. Maybe they were afraid to come swimming, Nath thought. What will happen to the body in the water? Do they dissolve like pills? he does not know. He considered the possibilities, grateful that his father had not let anyone but himself see Lydia's body.
He stared at the lake in a daze, letting time pass by. Suddenly, Hannah sat up straight and waved to someone, and then he came back to his senses and slowly looked towards the street. Jack was wearing a faded blue T-shirt and jeans—he had just returned from graduation, and his robe had long been taken off and draped over his arms, as if it was just a normal day. Nath hadn't seen him since the funeral, although he would peek into Jack's house two or three times a day. Jack also saw Nath, his expression changed, he quickly turned away and quickened his pace, pretending not to see either of the siblings. Nath jumped up.
"Where are you going?"
"Go talk to Jack." Actually, he wasn't sure what he would do. He had never been in a fight—he was smaller than most of the boys in his class—but he always felt that if he grabbed Jack by the front of his T-shirt and pushed him against a wall, he would suddenly admit guilt. "It's my fault. I seduced her, I convinced her, I deceived her, and I failed her." At this time, Hannah jumped forward and grabbed his wrist.
"do not go."
"It's all because of him," Ness said. "Without him, she wouldn't be running around in the middle of the night."
Hannah tugged hard on his arm, and Nath stepped back and landed on his knees. Jack was almost running now, his blue robes flying behind him, and when he reached the side street, he glanced back. There was no doubt fear in his eyes when he saw Nath, but that look was fleeting, and then he turned the corner and disappeared. Nath knew Jack would crawl through the house and hide. He tried to pull away, but Hannah's nails dug into his flesh. He didn't expect a child to be so strong.
"let me go-"
The two fell into the grass together, and finally Hannah let go. Nath sat up slowly, panting. Now, he thought, Jack was safe at home. Even if he rings the doorbell or even kicks in the door, he won't come out.
"Why did you stop me?"
Hannah took off a dead leaf from her hair: "Don't fight him, please."
"You're crazy," Nath rubbed her wrist, where her fingernails had dug five red marks, one of which was starting to bleed. "Jesus. I just want to talk to him."
"Why are you so angry with him?"
Nath sighed: "You saw how strange he behaved at the funeral, and just now, he seemed to be afraid that I would find something." He lowered his voice, "I know he is related to this matter. I can Feel it." He used his fist to massage his chest, just below the throat. Suddenly, he said something without thinking, "You know, Lydia fell into a lake once, when we were young. ." He said, and his fingertips began to tremble, as if he had just spoken about a taboo topic.
"I don't remember," Hannah said.
"You weren't born yet. I was seven."
To his surprise, Hannah came and sat beside him, gently placed her hand on his arm - the same arm she had scratched - and rested her head on him. In the past, she had never dared to sit so close to Nath. Whenever Hannah came near, Nath and Lydia, as well as their mother and father, would quickly shake her off or coax her away: "Hannah, I'm busy. I have something to do. Leave me alone." Stay alone." This time - she didn't even dare to breathe - Nass let her stay with him instead of chasing her away. Although he didn't say anything more, her silence told him that she was ready to listen.
① Ness’s full name is Nathan, and Ness is his nickname.