Chapter 5: The Orchestrated Confusion
I don’t remember the walk to Mrs. Kline’s house. I just remember the feeling of the sidewalk slamming against my heels and the sound of my own ragged breathing. I ended up on her porch, pounding on the door until she opened it.
“She lied to me,” I sobbed as she ushered me inside. “The note… she said everything was a lie.”
Mrs. Kline wrapped her arms around me, the lilac perfume now so thick it felt like it was coating my throat. “Oh, honey… you’re in shock. Grief does strange things to the mind. You probably misinterpreted it.”
“It was stitched into the dress! Why would she do that?”
“Sometimes,” Mrs. Kline said, her voice smooth and soothing, “people think they’re protecting you by withholding the truth. It doesn’t make them bad people, just… complicated.”
“I don’t even know who she was,” I wailed.
“You’re too emotional to be alone in that big, empty house,” Mrs. Kline said, leading me toward the sofa. “Stay here tonight. Let me take care of you. And about the house… if it’s too painful now, with all these questions… I could take it off your hands. I don’t have much, but I’d pay a fair price just to keep it in the family, so to speak.”
In my state of total collapse, the idea of walking away from the mystery felt like the only way to survive. “You can have it. I don’t care. I just want to go.”
I saw her lips curve—a tiny, predatory flicker of a smile—before she turned away to get me a glass of water. “You can stay here tonight,” she repeated. “Everything will be better in the morning.”
