The Ruining (22 page)

THE pROBLEM wAs, at the hospital we all spent too much time in our heads. I had a new roommate for two days before she would talk. She was fifteen, committed by her parents. I thought it would be a relief from Millie, but it was worse. She stared with wide, silent eyes. Then when she finally said something—to ask for my hairbrush—she looked afraid. And she chewed on the handle of my hairbrush. She said she didn’t, but when she gave it back the handle had bite marks. She was a nervous type, so I didn’t press the issue.

I worried about this. I thought about that time a few months ago when I was a college student and thought I could have it all. But now I thought maybe this was who I was, and I shouldn’t fight it.

The phone rang in the hallway, and it was Owen. All the girls hooted like it was some big deal that a guy called our communal phone. I said I didn’t think it was any big deal, but then my palms got sweaty like they do, so maybe it really was.

“Hey,” I said, waving away the women who clustered around me. Some of them didn’t care, they were smoking cigarettes out the window and watching the TV. They didn’t care about my love life.

“Hey,” Owen said back. “How are you?”
“Okay,” I said. “Tired mostly.”
“I’m going to come by today to see you.”
“Oh yeah?” I fingered my oily strands and wondered if I

I want you here.”
“Why?”
“I can’t have you see me like this.”
“I saw you already, Annie. And it’s not you. It’s that place.

As soon as you leave there—”
“But what happens then? I’ll be alone. What will I do?” “I found something out. Something that I need to tell you

right away. And Annie, why would you be alone?”
“You’re moving,” I told him. It was so obvious. I was sur
prised he wasn’t gone already.
“Oh god,” he said, sounding tired. “You don’t know yet.” “Don’t know what?”
“I went to Durham,” Owen told me. “And it was great, and
they’re willing to invest. But then I got back to San Francisco
and had a call from another guy, someone who’d seen my
work and heard about the Durham investment from my dad. He offered to top it. As long as he can hold stock in the com
pany. I’m staying in San Francisco, Annie.”
“Staying . . .” It took me several moments to process what
he was saying.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s perfect, don’t you see? We can be together.
I can be here for you, I can help you get better. But I thought
you knew already, I texted you the second I found out.” “Oh god,” I said, starting to weep from shock and happiness. “They took my cell phone. I don’t have it anymore. Owen,
I thought we were done. I thought I’d lost you.” Owen burst
into laughter. But it wasn’t mocking. Instead, it was happy,
relieved.
“God, that explains a lot. No wonder you were acting so
irrational,” he said, careful to avoid using the word “crazy.”
“Wow,” he breathed. “Just . . . wow. No, Annie, I’m staying
right here in San Francisco. You can come stay with me until
you get things figured out. If you want to, that is,” he said,
suddenly shy.
“Want to?” I breathed. “Are you kidding? Owen, it’s my
dream. But maybe I do need help. They take care of me here.
Do you really want to take responsibility for me? Until I can do
it myself?”
“Annie, don’t you realize what Libby wants? She wants you
to become dependent on that place. She’d like you to stay there
forever so you don’t find out and expose the truth. So even if
you do suspect, you won’t be believed.”
“What truth? Just tell me.” I wound the cord around my wrist nervously. I wasn’t sure what to expect from him. What
he’d found out.
“I’m coming over there,” he said. “It’ll be easier in person.
I’ll see you soon.”
I started worrying that he wouldn’t come. I worried that
his car would find a tree, or he would find another girl. I sat
on my bed and tried to wait patiently, but it was too hard. I
could tell that Aurora—that was my roommate’s name, a name
as fragile as she was—was getting scared. That was one thing
I was learning about the hospital. I always had to worry about
people’s feelings. I had to worry about people noticing and
reacting to the things I did.
“He’ll come,” Aurora said. “I know he will.”
“What do you know?” I asked.
“You’re telling me. You keep whispering, Please let him
come. He’ll be here, I feel it.”
“Maybe.” But I felt something else. I felt something very
close to hope again, and that was something that reminded me
of the life I’d had before I’d come to the hospital. I felt so close
to hope again. And I felt everything balancing tenuously on a
tightrope. If Owen didn’t get here to tell me what he needed to
tell me before someone stopped him, I’d fall. And there would
be no more hope. Was it so crazy to think something might
happen to him? The word “crazy” meant nothing to me anymore. Anything could happen, no one could be trusted, except
maybe Owen. That’s what I’d learned. When your definition of
reality is fluid, the world expands in front of you. Was it crazy to think that if one thing fell in Owen’s path on the way to the hospital, my future would be sealed? Maybe it was. That’s why I was so afraid.

“I think Dr. Clarkson got him,” Miranda said. “He pulled him into his office.”
I strode out of my room and down the hallway. Miranda chased after me, making feeble overtures as if to stop me. I reached Dr. Clarkson’s ever-locked office and pounded on the door. I knocked five, six times before he poked his head out. “Annie,” he said. “You shouldn’t be here. You know that.”
“Where’s Owen?”
“I’m not sure who you mean,” he said. “I have a patient inside, filling out an intake form.”
“I know he’s in there,” I said. “I know it’s him.”
“You know I don’t entertain visitors,” Dr. Clarkson said, his irritation palpable. “If you’re expecting a visitor, I suggest you go to the recreation area.” He shut the door in my face, and I heard it lock behind him with a click.
“Miranda,” I said, “Are you sure it was Owen?”
“Positive,” she told me. “I saw him the last time he visited. I wouldn’t mistake anyone for him.”
“Why, Miranda?” I looked at her shrewdly, and she blushed in response.
My senses were on high alert. I hadn’t gotten a good look into Dr. Clarkson’s office, so I didn’t know for sure whether he’d been telling the truth. I jogged the last few steps to the recreation area. There was Owen. Waiting for me, like he’d promised.
“Miranda, go away,” I yelled. “Just go away. You’re no help. You’re making me insane. You made my heart stop just now.” Miranda looked confused, even wounded, but she turned and left the room.
“Owen,” I said. “I’m so thankful. I thought you wouldn’t make it.”
“Of course I’m here,” he told me. “Now stay strong, Annie. I’m going to tell you what I found out very quickly, because it’s awful. I need you to commit it to memory no matter what. I need you to focus very carefully on everything I’m about to say.”
I struggled to do as he said, to center my mind. I looked into his green orbs and let them hold me steady. “I’m listening,” I told him.
“I did some research. I went to the library and dug up what I could. And when I started finding stuff that didn’t seem right . . . I hacked into some police files and the Cohens’ home computer. I dug up some really serious stuff, Annie. The Cohens lived in Pennsylvania before they moved to Marin County. But Walker was married to a woman named Adele first. Zoe was his daughter with Adele. And Libby was their nanny.”
“Yeah, I already know all that. Walker had an affair with Libby. And his wife died, and he and Libby got married and had Jackson. Walker stopped by and explained everything. To clear his guilty conscience, I guess.”
Owen didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “If you know all this, why were you keeping it to yourself?” he asked.
“How will any of this help me? What does it matter?”
“Annie,” Owen said. “You don’t know everything. When I was looking up birth and death records, I realized that Libby had Jackson just about six months after Adele died. Libby was pregnant when Adele died.” I still wasn’t seeing a point here.
“Okay,” I said. “So they didn’t exactly fall in love after the fact, like Walker said. But he didn’t deny having the affair. He didn’t seem to mind my knowing that. I still don’t see what you’re trying to say?”
“They lived in a house in the country, by a river,” Owen told me. “Did Walker tell you how his first wife died?”
“No.” I found myself dreading what Owen was about to say. I still felt squeamish about implicating Libby. I still cared about her, despite my efforts to hate her.
“Well, she drowned,” Owen said. “Libby was there.”
“That’s awful. Poor Libby.” I couldn’t imagine how traumatic it would have been for Libby to see her employer drown and not be able to do anything about it. It explained why she was so fragile from time to time, why she always worried about being second-best to Adele.
“Annie, set your feelings for Libby aside for a second, okay? She’s not who you think she is.”
“Owen,” I said, getting impatient. “I have no idea what you’re getting at. Just say it.”
“Don’t you get it? Adele’s death was not an accident.”
I was getting angry and impatient. “Owen, what are you talking about? Stop accusing and just say something I can actually understand!” I’d started biting my fingernails, trying to make sense of it all.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just that I put it all together just yesterday, and I’ve gone over and over it, and I’m pretty sure it’s foolproof. I’m just really excited, I guess. I just want you to get out of here.” I glared at him silently, willing him to continue.
“So Libby told the police that Adele had been behaving strangely, that they’d just had a disagreement over laundry or something silly: Libby had accidentally ruined Adele’s favorite silk dress. Libby didn’t want Adele driving in such a state of anger, but she couldn’t convince her to stay, or to leave Zoe behind. She was watching from the door as they drove away. Halfway down the driveway, a squirrel darted in front of the car. Adele swerved, lost control of the vehicle, and drove straight into the river. Libby ran after them, but she only managed to save Zoe, who wasn’t fully strapped into her car seat. Libby was able to grab her easily, but Adele was trapped. In the end, Libby had to swim back to shore with Zoe, and by the time she got Zoe to safety, Adele had drowned.
“Oh god,” I said, shocked. “That’s so horrible. Thank god Zoe survived. But to see her mom die like that . . . poor baby. No wonder all the nightmares. I still don’t get what this has to do with Libby being responsible, though. It seems like she was trying to help, if anything.”
“Yeah, and that’s basically how the papers painted it. One of the articles I read cast Adele as a totally neglectful mother, not properly strapping Zoe into the car seat and all. But Adele’s cause of death wasn’t drowning. Her heart gave out almost instantly from panic, even before she drowned, according to the coroner’s report. Libby was regarded as a hero for dashing into the river to get Zoe. There were pictures of Walker embracing Libby and Zoe, almost like they were a family. He was so happy that his little girl was saved.”
“So Libby saved Zoe, and Zoe watched her mom die. How awful.” Suddenly Zoe’s moody spells were making a lot of sense. Everything was falling into place.
“But, Annie, think,” said Owen. “The will that you stumbled across. Walker stood to inherit a lot of money, and if Libby could get Walker to marry her, then so did she. I thought about that, and then I dug a little further. Apparently Adele left a note. The ‘accident’ was supposedly purposeful.”
“Oh god. You’re telling me it was suicide? But how did you get all of this information? The police reports and all?”
“You’re forgetting that I’m an expert when it comes to computers,” Owen said. “I can hack into almost any system. But, Annie, seriously. Think hard. You found the will. Libby started treating you differently. She convinced you to come to this hellhole to get you out of the way. Libby killed Adele. I’m sure of it. And she saved Zoe to secure Walker’s loyalty. She was pregnant with his child. She wanted Adele out of the picture. And she had a motive. We know that. You discovered her motive! That’s why you’re here, Annie. It all makes sense.”
“Owen!” I gasped. “It was an accident!”
“It’s too weird,” he said. “It doesn’t add up. Unless Adele was suicidal, there’s no way she’d have swerved all the way into the river. It was twenty yards from the road. I would’ve been willing to buy that maybe she was suicidal—her medical condition and all—if she hadn’t brought Zoe with her. She wasn’t a killer, and everything I found points to the fact that she adored Zoe. I thought it seemed a little too convenient, so I poked around on Libby’s work computer. I was able to hack into her email account. And I found something I’m pretty sure proves everything.”
“What is it?” I whispered.
“Libby saved every piece of correspondence Walker ever sent her via email. One of the letters said he wished things could be different—that if he had met Libby sooner, he would have married her instead of Adele. He thought Libby was his soul mate, but he didn’t think he could break apart his family. And then Libby replied by saying she’d do whatever it took to be with him.”
“But that isn’t proof,” I said. “What do you think she did?”
“I think she cut the brakes. That’s my gut instinct. You’re right, the letter isn’t proof. But it’s enough to spur an investigation. And even better”—he leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs—“I found the car.”
“What do you mean, you found it? This was ages ago! Where was it?”
“It’s at a parts shop in Pennsylvania,” he said. “Untouched. The investigation originally stalled, apparently because of the note—they found it the following day in her jewelry box. But the car was initially held as evidence. And as long as there’s a chance for the case to open back up, the car has to be left alone.”
“Oh my god,” I said, putting my face in my hands. “Oh my god, Owen. How could I have missed this? It makes so much sense—the will, the inheritance—but how could I have trusted her so much? I loved her, Owen! I thought she cared about me.” I was shaking and crying then, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close.
“I know, baby. But it’s not your fault. She’s obviously a very, very messed up person. Maybe even a sociopath. She betrayed you. She lied.” He spit the last words in disgust. “You couldn’t have known, because you’re not like that. You’re a good person.”
“She’s a murderer,” I whispered. “I’ve been living with a murderer all this time! What am I supposed to do, Owen? And, oh my god, the kids! What about Zoe and Jackson? They aren’t safe in that house! We need to tell someone what’s going on. What do we do?”
“Go to Clarkson, I guess. Is he the only option?”
“He’s the one who runs the place. Do you think Walker knows?”
“I don’t know,” said Owen. “Nothing in the correspondence suggested he does. I think she’s so twisted she played him as easily as she played you. Think about how far she’s gone to