He must have. Why else would she be wearing his sweater? And that pink hair tie in his bathroom – oh my God – he said it was his daughter’s. That long strand of blonde hair. Was it Hannah’s? She was home then, not in New York. The timing works but even without hard evidence my gut screams ‘yes’. He did know. He knew all along.
I think I’m going to be sick. How long have they been in contact? Why did she never bring it up? Did Nate know the whole time he was trying to get me into bed? Was it a game to him? Was he angry and trying to destroy my marriage? Or was he genuinely trying to rekindle something? Given what he did next, I’m assuming he was angry. It would be just like him to include Hannah in his revenge.
More memories assault me. I remember how I found Hannah in June’s room – screaming over the dead hamster. Another veil is stripped away and the image I see is a Gorgon, making me want to throw my arm up and shield myself from the sight. What if Hannah was in June’s room looking for the money? Did she know it was there? Did June tell her? If Nate suspected the money was hidden somewhere in June’s room, did he ask Hannah to look for it?
Was Hannah part of Nate’s plan all along? It makes sense. If June told her about the money she’d stolen from Gene, did she tell Nate? It’s true Nate knew already that Gene was a drug dealer. They’d been watching him for months. He may have known that Gene was likely to have cash on the premises.
Maybe I’m clutching at straws. And yet . . .
Hannah had a motive. Isn’t it possible that her life-long jealousy of Gene led her to conspire with Nate to rob him? Or her anger at me for lying to her about Nate could have fueled her.
Would she really have done this though? How can I believe it? They abducted her, I remind myself angrily. I found her tied up in the basement of that house, terrified and sobbing. She’s the one who shot Nate. I’m losing my mind. It doesn’t make sense that she would be involved, that she could ever do something like this. She’s not a monster. She’s my daughter. I know her . . .
Don’t I?
I think back, desperately trying to remember something that will confirm that I’m wrong, that I’m jumping to conclusions, that I’m paranoid and delusional and crazy. But instead all I can dig up are things that further cement her complicity.
Hannah rang Robert the week before the break-in and reminded him about our anniversary, something she’s never done before. She encouraged him to book a restaurant and take me out. She called me that night, before I met up with Laurie and asked, oh so casually, what I was doing and where I was. I remember thinking at the time it was strange of her to call me, so unlike her to check in, and I was so happy to hear her voice. But she rang off quickly when I told her I was going out with Laurie and her dad was at home.
I stare at her, feeling like I’m on a fairground ride that is slowly gathering speed.
Are her grief and tears over June the normal reaction of a sibling in this situation, or is it guilt?
She would never have wanted June to get hurt, I know that. And there’s no way she would have gone along with any attempt to harm June either. Maybe that’s what she was fighting with them about, outside the hospital. She’s been lying – to me, to the cops, to everyone. She didn’t just happen to wander past and overhear them talking about June – the very coincidence of that seems unlikely, now I think about it.
What if they were fighting because Hannah was telling them to leave June alone? What if she threatened to tell the truth?
I think of all the times I saw her with Jonathan – how distraught she seemed – the red mark on her arm, the tears. I put it down to grief and stress, but what if they were arguing over how to handle the mess they’d made? What if he was threatening her to keep her quiet?
I remember the way she said his name in the cabin. ‘Nate.’ It sounded so familiar on her lips, jarring enough that I noticed it, even at the time. Nate – the way she said it with a warning tone.
Is that why they kidnapped her? Because they couldn’t keep her quiet any longer?
But would Nate really have harmed his own daughter to save his skin? Yes. Yes, he would. Of that I have no doubt. I think Nate was capable of anything.
I’m staring at Hannah with my mouth hanging open. All these thoughts have taken no longer than a few seconds to coalesce in my mind, and though I try to dismiss them, banish them, unthink them, I can’t. Because every single fiber of my body knows I’m right. Hannah played some part in this.
My own flesh and blood. I thought I knew her, and I didn’t know her at all.
‘Shall we go?’ Hannah asks, putting the photograph back in the bag and heading towards the door. She glances at Robert who is collecting the helium balloons banging against the ceiling. ‘Come on, Dad.’
Robert follows her, trailing the balloons like a pack of excited puppies. I open
