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I left the children sending the cue ball ricocheting dangerously around the table and dashed upstairs to clean up the kitchen, reasoning that Mom would surely notice how the coffee cups had multiplied in her absence. I was inverting a souvenir mug from New Orleans over a peg in the dishwasher, feeling like my father’s accomplice, when the front door slammed again. I hardly had time to turn around before Mother was standing in the kitchen doorway, her eyes wild with panic. Paul towered like a protective giant behind her. Even in the darkened hallway I saw that his arms were laden with bulky plastic bags from Bed Bath & Beyond.

“What were the police doing here? Have they arrested Georgina?” My mother’s voice trembled.

Paul set the bags down in the doorway and laid a comforting hand on my mother’s shoulder. “We saw the police car pull out of the drive,” he explained.

“Georgina’s fine, Mom. They’ve even sent her home.”

“Then what…?”

I took in my mother’s unusual pallor and decided a half truth would do. “The police are talking to everyone who saw Dr. Sturges in the last few weeks. Apparently Daddy went with Georgina to one of her therapy sessions.”

Mother shrugged out of her down jacket, handed it to Paul, and collapsed into a kitchen chair. “Of course. I knew that.” Relief flooded her face with color. “So, what did they want to know?” A strand of pale peach hair had fallen forward over her cheek, and she tucked it back behind her ear.

“You’ll have to ask Daddy about that.”

“Where is your father?”

I nodded toward the basement door. “Playing pool with the kids.”

“I suspect Georgina-” She paused and swallowed. “-or Scott will come to collect them before long.”

“But if they don’t, the children can spend the night with us.” Paul had returned from the utility room and I hugged him from behind, my arms encircling his narrow waist. “As grandparents ourselves now, we need a refresher course in kid control.”

“Absolutely not!” My mother’s voice carried even over the sound of the dishwasher kicking in. “They’ll stay here with us. Look at this place!” She made a broad sweep with her arm. “If we didn’t plan to have everyone over, we wouldn’t have bought a house with so much space.”

As bad an idea as I thought this was, I found it hard to reverse the parent/child roles. I could never outrank my mother. Still thinking that she might be overwhelmed by the rambunctiousness of her grandchildren, I quickly added, “Do you need me to stay?”

Paul swiveled his head in my direction, a pout beginning to materialize on his lower lip. It morphed into a smile as Mother said, “No, we’ll be fine. Georgina needs a rest.”

If she only knew the half of it. I prayed Daddy would tell her everything tonight.

I touched her arm. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t be silly.”

“The boys are pretty lively.”

“It’s a pleasure to have them. We lived so far away for so long. I’ve missed watching them grow up.” She stood and pulled her sweater close around her. “I’ll just go look for the sheets.”

Paul stood in the doorway like a guardian angel, watching until my mother was out of sight. “She’s gone upstairs,” he said.

He took a step in my direction, then stopped short when I snapped, “Where’s the damn phone?” After holding it in with my mother, my father, and the kids, my nerves just fell apart.

Paul pointed to a beige telephone mounted on the beige wall between the utility room and the refrigerator, a puzzled look clouding his face. Of course he didn’t know anything about Georgina’s accusations. I punched the auto dial button marked “G &S.” “Let me check with Scott. See what he wants us to do,” I told Paul.

“Need me?” He raised a hopeful eyebrow.

I wanted to tell him all about it then, but shook my head and blew him a conciliatory kiss instead. “Later, love.”

“I’ll just take these down to the basement, then.” Paul gathered up the bags containing Mother’s purchases. “Hold that thought,” he said, and disappeared down the stairway.

After four exasperating rings, I got the answering machine and Georgina’s naturally breathy voice telling me untruthfully that nobody was home. “Scott. I know you’re there. Pick up.” The silence stretched into an endless minute while I breathed quietly into the recording. “Pick up, dammit!” The line merely hissed and crackled.

I hung up, counted to ten, and dialed again. This time Scott answered on the first ring. “Sorry, Hannah. I was putting Georgina to bed.”

Almost unconsciously, I checked my watch. Six-thirty. Scott was putting his wife to bed like a child. “So, what happened with the police?”

“Oh, God! They questioned her for hours. But she hung in there! Your baby sister hung right in there, Hannah. A regular trouper.”

Yeah, sure. I could see it now. Flashing those jade-green eyes, seeking Scott’s approval for every lying word. I wondered how well Georgina’s demure damsel-in-distress act had played with the businesslike Sergeant Williams.

Beating around the bush was never an option with my brother-in-law, so I got right to the point. “So, Scott, tell me this: What did Georgina say that made the police think they needed to talk to Daddy?”

“How-?”

Good. I’d caught him off guard. “They showed up in Annapolis over an hour ago.”

Scott cleared his throat and mumbled something I didn’t understand.

“Scott? Are you there?”

“Sorry.” He sighed heavily. “Seems your father went to a therapy session with Georgina. He had a disagreement with the doctor.”

I was hoping Scott would be more forthcoming about Georgina’s interview than the police had been, so I wasn’t about to make it easy for him. “A disagreement? What about, for Christ’s sake?”

“Her treatment, I suppose. Or maybe her medication.”

Liar, I thought. Aloud I asked, “What kind of treatment?”

I knew I’d touched a nerve when he snarled, “You know I can’t talk about that!”

“You mean it’s something you can talk about with the police-who the last time I noticed were complete strangers-rather than with your family?”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“Then I ask you again, Scott. What kind of treatment?”

He paused before answering. “Diane was urging Georgina to confront her demons head-on.”

“Demons?”

“If Georgina is going to be pulled from the abyss, she has to face what happened to her.”

I hadn’t made it as far as the abyss. I was still stumbling over the demons. And then I made the awful leap. The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Daddy? A demon?”

“So. You know about it.” His voice was calm, matter-of-fact.

“You think Daddy’s a demon?”

“I didn’t say that, Hannah. You did.”

I lost all patience with my brother-in-law. “That’s the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard! How can you believe such crap?” I fumbled for the right words. “Daddy never touched us inappropriately. Never!”

“Well, Diane was certainly right about that!” Scott sounded disgustingly pleased with himself.

“Right about what?”

“She warned Georgina to expect denials.”

“Well, of course I’m denying it! Nothing like that ever happened.”

“Hannah, you realize that by refusing to face this issue head-on, you’re no better than a coconspirator?”

I gasped. “We’re all coconspirators, then. Ruth, Mother, Paul, probably even the paperboy and the Avon lady.” I fell back against the wall, breathless, as if I’d just taken a quick punch to the stomach. Scott was hopeless. If he wanted to label us coconspirators, I had a label for him, too. Enabler.