“Oh?”
“Well, he’s rich and powerful and he doesn’t like to listen to women.” She paused. “Though of course he listens to me.”
“As he should.” He sounds like an asshole already.
“Where are you?” Rosie sounded confused. “Where have you been?”
“I’m taking a walk. I think I’ll go to the university library.”
“Oh, why?”
“Research.”
“On what? Did you speak to Larry Renee again?”
“No, I didn’t. He . . .” I paused.
“He what?” she asked, sounding very interested in my answer.
“He didn’t have much to say the first time we spoke.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“That’s good?”
“I mean it’s good that there’s not more craziness going on. It’s good that you know all there is to know.”
“Yeah, but do I? What do I really know?” My voice rose as I crossed the street, dodging a yellow cab as I jaywalked. “Screw you too!” I shouted back at the driver.
“What’s going on, Bianca?” Rosie sounded anxious. “Are you sure you don’t want me to cancel? I totally wouldn’t mind.”
“Rosie, no, you can’t cancel. I won’t let you. Have your talk with your guy and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’m worried about you, Bianca. You haven’t been the same since your dad died.”
“That’s what happens when you lose a parent.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” Rosie’s voice was a monotone. “I guess I don’t know what that’s like. I don’t remember my dad, and, well, my mom is still around.”
“It’s hard.” I sighed. “I wish now that I’d asked more questions. I wish I knew more about his past. I wish I’d tried to reach him on a deeper level instead of just accepting that he was depressed over my mother’s death.”
“I suppose he felt guilty.”
“You think so?”
“I mean it was his fault, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I guess most people blame themselves when a loved one dies.”
“Yeah, it was like he died while he was still alive.” Tears rolled down my face as I walked aimlessly, no longer caring where I was going.
“I guess that’s what happens when you love too hard. You become broken when you lose them.”
“I never want to love that hard.”
“Me either.” Rosie’s voice was strong. “I’m not going to let any man ruin my life.”
“It’s hard though, isn’t it? It’s hard not to let someone get too close.”
“You really liked Mattias, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” I gulped. “I really did.”
“Have you heard from him since you’ve been back?”
“No.” I stopped outside a bodega.
“Do you want to see him?”
“I want answers, so maybe.”
“That’s not the right answer, Bianca. You can’t see him! Who knows what he’d do? Especially if he still wants something from you. Especially if you don’t want to go to the police.”
“I just don’t know what I’d say to the police,” I whispered into the phone. “Would they even believe me?”
“I don’t know, Bianca. I don’t know what you’d tell them. Mattias Bradley, the CEO of one of the biggest corporations in the world, kidnapped me and then flew me home and I don’t know why.”
“Yeah.” I closed my eyes. “They’d laugh me out of the precinct.” I took a deep breath. “Hey, I’m about to head into the subway. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bianca. Stay safe.”
I hung up the phone, my heart pounding as I tried to figure out what to do next. I couldn’t go home, not with Jakob there—and not with his having a key. I’d have to get the locks changed. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I knew that he’d be angry that I’d escaped. I was in a maze and had no idea how to get out. The events of the past week were leading me in one direction, but all I could see were the walls. There still seemed to be no clear path out of this mess. I was angry and upset and so, so sad. I had nowhere to go and no one to talk to. I was all alone. I missed my dad. I mean really missed him. And more than that, I missed the lost opportunities that I had had with him.
I’d never fought for a better relationship. I’d never tried to cross that line to have a deeper, more significant relationship with him. I’d accepted his pain and lived with it. I’d occupied my mind with other things. Felt love and acceptance in other ways. I’d experienced the love of a father in movies. I’d experienced the childhood I’d always wanted by watching Meet Me in St. Louis. I had been Judy Garland, I had the caring and protective parents, the wonderful sisters, the next-door neighbor that made my heart clamor, I was on the trolley singing about the ringing and the dinging of the bell. I was happy in those moments. I was a part of something. That was the life I’d grown up with. It wasn’t real and it wasn’t mine, but I felt the heartache and the love and it was as if it were mine. It had been enough. Just like my favorite book, Homecoming, by Cynthia Voigt. I’d read that book every year since I was ten years old. The sadness and the loneliness of the Tillerman children was my own, and while I didn’t have the siblings, I had the feelings. I was on that journey, looking for home. I’d always been on that journey. I’d just never acknowledged it.