Page 67 of Such Sharp Teeth

“Going to look for her.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want us to find her,” I say. “Maybe she’s pissed about the shower.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Wouldn’t that be the best-case scenario?”

“Aurora.”

“Fine.”

We drive around in silence for about forty-five minutes, just circling through town.

“Where could she have gone? Has she responded to you?”

“Nope,” I say.

“What if she was abducted?”

“What if she’s running errands?”

I wish my mother had shown even a fraction of this concern for me when I was an eleven-year-old child being sent out for fucking pizza pickup with Dave.

She’s crying again.

“What?” I ask.

“You hate me!”

“Pull over. You can’t drive like this.”

She pulls into the parking lot of a strip mall. We’re between a nail salon and a Dunkin’ Donuts.

“You hate me,” she repeats. “I tried so hard. I did my best. You have to believe me. I tried my best.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I say, playing with my gold chain, with my moon charm.

“What will it take? What can I do? I couldn’t have done anything differently. I didn’t know, Aurora. He fooled me, too.”

“He didn’t fool me,” I say. “You asked me to give him a chance.”

“A year. He was in our lives for almost a year. I didn’t once see anything that gave me any reason to doubt him, to suspect.”

“How about me saying that I didn’t like him? That I didn’t want him around.”

“You were eleven. You didn’t like anyone.”

“That’s not the point! You’re missing the point. You badger me to talk about it, and then when I do, you don’t listen to anything I say. You don’t want to hear what I’m saying.”

“I am listening,” she says, gripping the steering wheel tight with both hands. “I am. I can’t change what happened. I wish I could.”

“Why can’t you just say you’re sorry? Why can’t you apologize?”

This is the question. It carries with it the most rage. The most savage anger.

“You blame me,” she says. “You blame me.”

“You refuse to take any responsibility. Do you understand what that’s like for me?” I ask. My skin is too small. It can’t contain the anger. “Why can’t you just admit your part?”