He cleared his throat.
“Claire wanted to stop.”
“Her husband agreed.”
“I told everybody we'd beat the storm if we kept moving.”
He paused.
“They followed me.”
Kendra understood.
“The road got slick.”
“Yes.”
“Claire died.”
“Yes.”
“You blamed yourself.”
“Every day.”
“Did she blame you?”
Silence.
“I don't know.”
“Your sister.”
“Yes.”
“She knew you were making a judgment.”
“She trusted me.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
The biker almost laughed.
“You sound like her.”
Kendra did not know what to do with that.
Then he said:
“There's something else your daughter said.”
“What?”
“The moon.”
Kendra went cold.
“How do you know about the moon?”
“One of the boys heard her describe the mark below Claire’s ear.”
“The birthmark?”
“Yes.”
“That photo is online.”
“True.”
“Someone could have shown her.”
“True.”
Kendra appreciated that he was not trying to convince her.
Then he added:
“But Claire called it her moon.”
Kendra closed her eyes.
“Not a birthmark?”
“Never.”
He laughed faintly through emotion.
“When we were kids, I told her it was a piece of moon that fell on her.”
Kendra looked toward the ceiling.
“She believed me until she was nine.”
“Then used the joke against me forever.”
He paused.
“None of that is online.”
Kendra whispered:
“I need to think.”
“I understand.”
“Don't call again tonight.”
“I won't.”
She almost hung up.
Then:
“What's his condition again?”
“Stable.”
“Tell him…”
She stopped.
“Tell him my daughter is glad he woke up.”
“I will.”
Kendra ended the call.
She did not sleep.
At six in the morning Adeline walked into the kitchen wearing pajamas and carrying the crooked tiara.
Kendra stared.
“Why do you have that?”
The girl shrugged.
“Claire likes it.”
Kendra's chest tightened.
“Sit down.”
Adeline climbed onto a chair.
Kendra placed cereal in front of her.
Neither ate.
Finally Kendra asked:
“When did Claire first come to you?”
Adeline thought.
“When I was little.”
“You’re still little.”
The child smiled.
“Littler.”
“What did she say?”
“She didn't talk much at first.”
“What did she do?”
“Sat.”
“Where?”
“By my toys.”
“Did she scare you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Adeline looked surprised.
“She’s nice.”
“Does she come every night?”
“No.”
“Only sometimes.”
“When?”
“When somebody needs something.”
Kendra's skin prickled.
“Who?”
Adeline shrugged.
“People.”
“Has she told you about other people?”
“Yes.”
“Like who?”
“The old lady at Grandma’s church.”
Kendra remembered.
Several months earlier, Adeline insisted they call an elderly woman after church.
They did.
The woman had fallen in her kitchen shortly before the call but managed to answer from the floor.
Everyone had treated it as coincidence.
Kendra suddenly remembered another incident.
Adeline refusing to let her drive through an intersection because “the red truck is coming.”
Kendra had laughed.
Then a delivery truck ran the light.