‘So, the gang’s all here,’ said Lisa. ‘Minus one. Where is Sydney?’
‘In a safe place,’ said Adam.
‘Do you think this is a game? Where did you leave my daughter?’
Adam took a deep breath. ‘Lisa, put that gun down. Let’s talk about this.’
‘Oh, sure. I’ll do whatever you say.’
Adam shook his head. ‘There’s no reason for this. We can discuss it.’
Lisa grabbed Hannah by the neck of her sweater and yanked her to her feet. She put the gun to her mother’s head. ‘There’s nothing to discuss. Sydney belongs to me. Tell me where she is.’
Adam raised his hands, as if pleading for calm. ‘Stop it. I’ll take you to her. Just leave your mother alone.’
‘Like I believe you,’ said Lisa.
‘Why, Lisa?’ he said sorrowfully. ‘Why has it come to this?’
‘How can you ask me that? After what you did? Left me in jail and absconded with my kid. I got out of jail, expecting a homecoming celebration, and found that you two had gone and taken her with you.’
‘I’m sorry we had to do that,’ said Adam wearily. ‘But we felt that we had no choice.’
‘You had a choice!’ Lisa cried. ‘You could have minded your own business. It was none of your business what I did with my daughter.’
‘She’s our granddaughter,’ said Adam. ‘She’s a helpless, innocent baby.’
‘She’s not a baby,’ said Lisa. ‘That was always your excuse for trying to tell me what to do. Thinking you knew better than I did what was best for Sydney. What was best for me. Thinking you could control everything. Well, you can’t tell me what to do. I hope that’s clear to you now. I’m in charge now. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you both what to do.’ Lisa turned to her mother. ‘Get up. Go on. Move. We’re going.’
Hannah looked helplessly at Adam. She could see a warning in his eyes but she could not read what he was trying to tell her. ‘Adam?’
‘Don’t ask him,’ said Lisa. ‘Stand on your own two feet for once. Move.’
Hannah felt the cold barrel of the gun against her temple. Lisa was so close to her that she could feel her breath on her neck. She wasn’t sure her legs would carry her but Lisa was not giving her any choice.
‘You go first,’ Lisa instructed Adam. ‘We’re going to get Sydney. And once we’ve done that . . . I won’t have any further use for you. For either of you. Go on. Out!’
Adam opened the door of the apartment and stepped out onto the landing. Hannah followed behind him, with Lisa holding a wad of her sweater in her hand, and the gun to her head. As they stepped out, Adam stopped.
‘Go on,’ Lisa insisted. ‘Down the stairs.’
Suddenly Hannah saw there was a man hidden in the dark corner of the landing, holding a gun. She peered into the shadows and recognized Frank. Come to the rescue. He held her gaze and shook his head, warning her to stay quiet. To pretend he wasn’t there. She should have been relieved. Grateful. But her instinct had a will of its own. A voice inside her heart was screaming that he was a soldier and he knew how to kill someone with a gun. It was an impulse — irrational, undeniable. A desire, in spite of everything, to protect her child.
‘Frank, don’t. Lisa!’ she cried. ‘Look out. He has a gun.’
‘Who has a gun? Oh, please, Mother. I’m not a gullible child.’
‘Listen to me. I mean it.’
‘Put it down, miss,’ said Frank.
Lisa looked away from her mother into the darkness just beyond where her father stood. ‘Who are you?’ She turned on her father. ‘Did you call the cops?’
‘Do what he says, Lisa,’ Adam pleaded. ‘Let’s put an end to this.’
‘I’ll put an end to it!’ she cried. She turned the gun sharply from Hannah’s head toward Frank.
In that instant, her father saw her intention — her intention to kill Frank, this good man, who only came to help. Adam threw himself in front of Frank as, without hesitation, Lisa fired. Adam reeled backward and collapsed as the bullet entered his body.
‘Adam!’ Hannah cried, rushing toward her husband as he crumpled on the stairs. ‘Oh my God. Adam.’
‘No, stay down,’ he said, clutching his shoulder.
In that instant there was another gunshot. With a cry, Hannah turned away from Adam.
Frank’s gun was smoking and Lisa stood there for a moment, looking surprised.
‘Lisa!’ Hannah called out, as if in warning. ‘No.’
Then Lisa’s eyes rolled back and her limbs seemed to turn to rubber. She pitched forward, collapsing on the stairs. ‘Lisa!’ Hannah cried, and tried to scramble toward her daughter. She tried to grab Lisa’s jacket, got her fingers on the fabric and tried to grasp it. But Lisa’s body was limp, a dead weight falling. The jacket slid from Hannah’s fingers. Her body tumbled down the steep staircase and came to rest on the landing.
Hannah crawled and scuttled down the stairs to her child, who was splayed out at an unnatural angle, her head against the banister, one leg on the landing and the other on a higher step. One arm was limp, bent backward.
Hannah reached her and tried to gather her daughter up into her arms.
Lisa’s cloudy eyes gazed at her, as if from some other galaxy. ‘Mommy,’ she whispered.
‘I’m here,’ said Hannah. She watched the feeble spark of life fade from her daughter’s eyes, along with every hope she had ever cherished. Hannah held that lost child to her heart and began to wail.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Eighteen months later
‘Come, sit out on the deck,’ said Hannah.
Kiyanna followed Hannah out through the sliding glass doors.
She sat down heavily on one of the chairs, her spring jacket falling open around her.
Hannah
