Chapter 2 Sunday
Lina looked out the car window, licking her upper teeth.She has not yet gotten used to the unnatural feel of the temporary dentures.In three weeks, she will have four permanent dentures that lock into her gums like little light bulbs.It was hard for her to imagine what that would be like.But now these temporary dentures just remind her of what happened four months ago.
She looked at the flying over scenery and wanted to erase that memory.Grant County was a small place, but Reyce, where Lena and her sister Sybil grew up, was even smaller.Their father died in the line of duty eight months before they were born, and their mother died in childbirth.Responsibility for raising the sisters then fell to their uncle, Hank Norton.An admitted freak and alcoholic, he struggled with alcoholism throughout the girls' childhood.One fine afternoon, a drunken Hank reverses his car in the driveway and hits Sybil.Lina has been blaming him for blinding Xi Bier.She could never forgive him for his role in the accident, and his reaction to her hatred had been his usual rage.The unpleasant past between the two has separated them.Now, Xi Bier is dead, and Lina is as usual, but for her, Hank Norton is still the lingering shadow of her life.
"It's so hot outside." Hank murmured, patting the back of his neck with a dirty handkerchief.The air conditioner in the car was whistling, and Lina could hardly hear what he was saying.Hank's old Mercedes was a big car with all the accoutrements outsized.Seats are huge.The footwell is large enough for a horse.The controls on the dashboard are large and prominent, and they're designed to show off, too.Still, sitting in such a solid car, I feel very at ease.Even pulling down the gravel driveway where Lina lived, the car was as smooth as flying.
"It's hot," Hank said again.The older he got, the worse the habit became, as if repeated words made up for the embarrassment of having nothing to say.
"Yes." Lina agreed, continuing to look out the window.She knew Hank was watching her, maybe wanting to chat with her.After a few seconds, he seemed to decide to give up and turn on the radio instead.
Lina leaned her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes.Before she promised to go to church with her uncle on a Sunday as soon as possible after leaving the hospital, and later it became a habit to go to church with him.Lina often followed him not so much for confession but because she was afraid of being at home alone.In her heart, she no longer needed to ask for forgiveness for anything.Four months ago she had done her duty to God, the Creator, and rape and drugs had thrown her into a world of pain and hypocrisy.
Hank interrupted her again.
"Are you all right, kid?"
What a stupid question, Lina thought.What a fucking stupid question.
"Little Li?"
"Yeah." She forced her voice through her teeth.
"Nan's calling again," he told her.
"I know." Lina said.Nan Thomas, Sybil's dead lover, had been trying to find them for a month.
"She's got some of Sybil's stuff," Hank said, though he knew Lina should know about it. "She wants to give it to you herself."
"Why not give it to you?" Lina retorted.She had no reason to see the woman, and Hank knew it, but he kept bringing it up.
Hank changed the subject.
"That girl last night," he said, turning off the radio, "you were there, weren't you?"
"That's right." She still hissed through her teeth.Lina gritted her teeth, trying not to cry.Can she still speak normally?Could even her own voice just keep reminding her of what he did to her?
He, Lina thought, couldn't say his name directly.She rested her hands on her knees and looked down at the scars on the backs of her hands.If Hank hadn't been there, she would have turned her palm over, looking at the scars where the nails had pierced her palm when she was nailed to the floor.She had the same wound on both feet, between the toes and the ankles.After two months of treatment, she is finally able to use her hands normally and walks without flinching, but the scar will never go away.
Lina has only a few clear memories of her being kidnapped.Only by relying on these scars and the medical records of the hospital, she was able to understand the whole process.She just remembers, when the drug wore off, that he came up to her, sitting on the floor next to her as if in Bible camp, telling his stories as if they were lovers trying to get to know each other better. Stories of childhood and a lifetime.
Lina's head was full of his stories: his first kiss, his first lovemaking, his dreams, his morbid crushes.She recalled these easily, as if they were her own memories.Had she ever told him about her past?She didn't remember, and that frightened her more than any physical abuse.Sometimes Lina felt that her scars were nothing compared to the intimate conversation she had with the man.He manipulated Lina so that she could no longer control her thoughts.He not only raped her body, but also her mind.
Like now, his memories were mixed with her own, and she didn't know if those things happened to her or to him.Even Sybil, the only person who could resolve her plight and help her regain her normal life, was taken away by him.
"Lily?" Hank interrupted her thoughts and handed out a pack of chewing gum.She shook her head no, watching him pull out a piece of Yellow Arrow gum while holding the steering wheel.His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and she saw the scars on his little pale arms.Those scars looked horrible, and reminded Lina of Jenny Weaver.Jeffrey kept asking her last night why people cut themselves on purpose, but Lina knew that pain could be a form of comfort.About six weeks after Lina was discharged from the hospital, she accidentally slammed her finger against the car door, and a searing pain spread through her entire arm, and for a split second, Lina found herself enjoying the pain, thinking, feeling again very nice.
She closed her eyes and clasped her hands in her lap.As usual, she touched the scars with her fingers, groping one by one.She felt no pain as the wound formed.The drug made her feel as if she was floating in the ocean, safe.Her mind had created a different reality than the one her rapist had brought her.When he touched her, her mind told her that inside her was her old boyfriend, Greg Mitch.Lina's body was responding to Greg, not him.
Since the incident, however, on the few occasions when Lina was finally able to fall asleep briefly, it was the man who assaulted her, not Greg.Resting on her breasts were his hands.It was him inside her.When she woke up in horror, it wasn't Greg who she was looking for in the dark, empty room.
Lina clenched her fists, and a sweet smell of chewing gum hit her from Hank.Her stomach twitched without warning.
"Stop." She barely managed to get the words out, covering her mouth with one hand and grabbing the door handle with the other.Hank quickly turned the car to the side of the road, and that's when Lena threw up.She drank only a cup of coffee for breakfast, and now she threw up with everything else.Soon she began to retch, churning violently in her stomach.She tried to straighten up, she was so weak that she shed tears, and her body kept shaking.
After a few minutes or so, her nausea finally subsided.Lina was wiping the corners of her mouth with the back of his hand when Hank patted her on the shoulder and handed her his handkerchief.The cloth was warm and smelled like his sweat, but she accepted it anyway.
"Your gum," she mumbled, clutching the dashboard to try to sit still.
"I do not know why either--"
"It's okay." He replied briefly.He pushed the window open, spit out the gum, and got back on the road.Hank stared straight ahead, jaw clenched.
"I'm sorry." She blurted out, not knowing why she was apologizing.Hank seemed angry, but she knew that his anger was aimed at herself, that she couldn't help, not at her.This drama has played out between them almost every day since she was released from the hospital.
Lina turned around and went to get the leather bag in the back seat, which contained Wei Dabao stomach medicine and Otuozi mint throat lozenges she needed most at this time.She hates vacations.At work, she is always too busy to get sick, has endless forms to fill out, and endless phone calls.She knew her role well at the police station, and patrolling with Brad—a job she resented at first—made her feel competent and secure.
She didn't go to work because being a police officer was the only thing that kept her alive.Lina knew that wasn't the case.Even if she was a cashier in a hardware store or a high school coworker, the feeling would be the same.Crime cases and criminals meant nothing to her any more than giving change to customers or cleaning floors in a cafeteria.What work has brought her these days is discipline.She had to be at the police station at eight o'clock in the morning.There was a lot of work waiting for her early in the morning.Brad needs someone to lead.At noon, they ate lunch, or Brad ate alone, and Lina had no appetite recently.At three o'clock in the afternoon, they went to Madison's King of Sweets for coffee.They returned to the police station at six o'clock, and Lina's world fell apart until she was back at work the next day.Some nights—like last night—Jeffrey would allow her to work overtime, and she was almost grateful.
Hank asked, "Are you okay?" Still condemning in his tone.
She quickly replied, "Don't mention it again."
"Okay, okay," he said, turning his lights on and pulling up behind a long line of trains in front of the church.They sat in the car in silence, waiting to enter the parking lot.
Lina looked up at the little white church with disgust.She never liked church, and was kicked out of Sunday school when she was twelve for tearing up a Bible.When Hank scolded her, she told him it was because she was bored, and in fact at that age Lina already hated conformity.She hates being told what to do.She cannot follow any authority that has not been verified by her.The only reason she was able to be a police officer was that she had some autonomy over the job and they all had to obey her when she gave orders.
"That girl," Hank resumed the subject, as if nothing had happened in the past ten minutes, "what happened to her, it was tragic."
"Yeah." Lina shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it.
"People get lost sometimes, I guess," Hank said.
"Refusal to ask for help results in regret," he added after a pause, "results in regret."
She knew what he was up to.He was comparing the girl to her.Probably from which Alcoholics Anonymous Association manual, it is the text printed on the back cover, next to the space for filling in the guarantor's name and contact number.
Lina said suddenly, "If I wanted to commit suicide, I would do it the first day I got home."
"I'm not talking about you," Hank shot back.
"It's strange." She said angrily.She paused, then said, "I thought you'd be back soon."
"That's right," he replied.
"That's all right," she said, and she meant it now.Lina had been living with Hank since she came home from the hospital, and she had had enough of being watched every minute of his life.
"I've got business to take care of," he said, as if his humble bar on the outskirts of Rath was IBM.
"I must hurry back. I will go tonight if I can."
"No problem." She said, but when she thought about being alone every night, her heart became uneasy again.Lena doesn't want to live with Hank, but once he's gone, she'll be alone.Even during the day, when she was working at the police station and Hank was back tending the bar, she would worry about whether he would get into a car accident or decide not to come back, afraid of having to go back to the dark and empty home.Hank wasn't just an unwelcome guest.He is her barrier.
"I have more important things to do," he told her.
She didn't say a word, but she kept shouting in her heart - please don't go, please don't leave me.But the words stuck in his throat.
The car jumped as Hank sped up suddenly and swerved into the parking space next to the church.He slammed on the brakes, and the old car swayed back and forth for a while before it stopped.
He looked back at her, reading her thoughts.
"You really want me to go? Then speak up. You always asked me to go very smoothly before."
She bit her lip, wanting to taste blood.Her body was still, only her teeth were moving.Memories flooded her, and she covered her mouth in surprise.
"What? Did you become dumb?"
Lina fought back her tears, her inner emotions surging.
Hank looked away, waiting for her to calm down.Lina knew he could stand a room full of strangers clamoring for a needle in the arm or a whiskey or two, but couldn't hold back her tears.And she also vaguely knew that he hated Lina crying.Xi Bier has always been his baby and is protected by him, while Lina is a strong child who does not depend on anyone.Now that the roles were reversed, he was caught off guard.
"You should see a psychiatrist," Hank said loudly, still angrily.
"Your chief wants you to go. It's a rule, but you haven't followed it."
She shook her head violently left and right, her hand still covering her mouth.
"It's been a while since you jogged. You've barely moved," he added, as if incriminating her.
"You go to bed at nine, and you always have to get up when you can't get up in the morning," he continued.
"It's been a long time since you took good care of yourself."
"I'll take care of myself." She said vaguely.
"You go to the doctor, or I'll leave today, Xiaoli." He held her hand, making her turn her head.
"I'm not joking, kid."
Suddenly, his expression changed, and the deep wrinkles on his face softened.He pushed back her hair for her, brushing his fingers lightly over her skin.Hank tried to show her fatherly love, but the tender way he touched her only reminded her of the disgusting feeling of being touched by him.That tenderness was the worst part: that soft skin touch, the delicate way he soothed and teased her with his tongue and fingers, the unbearably slow way he fucked her, as if he was making love to her instead of rape her.
Lina began to tremble.She couldn't help it.Hank quickly withdrew his hand, as if he had accidentally touched something dead.Lina flinched back, hitting her head on the car window.
"Don't do that again," she warned him, her voice full of fear.
"Don't touch me. Don't touch me like that again. Do you hear me?" She gasped, trying to suppress the bile welling up in her throat.
"I know," he said, putting his hand behind her but not touching her.
"I understand. I'm sorry."
Lina reached out to grab the door handle, but because she was shaking so badly, she had to grab it several times.She got out of the car and took a few breaths.The hot air surrounded her, and she squinted her eyes, trying not to connect the hot air with her dream of drifting on the sea.
She heard a familiar and kind voice behind her.
"Hi, Hank." The pastor of the church, David Fine, greeted him.
"Morning, pastor." Hank answered him with a voice that was genial in a way he hadn't been talking to Lina before.She had heard Hank speak in that tone, but only to Sybil.As for Lina, she will always be critical and demanding.
Lina struggled to catch her breath, then turned around.She couldn't laugh, but she lifted the corners of her mouth and smiled wryly at the pastor.
"Good morning, Detective," said David Vane, in a clergyman's pathetic tone that hurt her more than anything Hank had said in the car.For the past four months, Hank has been urging David Fine to come and enlighten Lina, and also persuade Lina to talk to the pastor.Pastor Fann is also a psychiatrist, and according to him, often sees patients at night.Lina didn't want to talk to the priest about the weather, let alone what happened to her.Not because Vann was the Antichrist, but out of all people, Lina would never talk to the priest about it.Hank seemed to have forgotten what she had suffered in that dark room.
She said hello curtly, "Pastor," and walked past him, clutching her purse to her chest like an old lady at a flea market.
She felt him staring at her back, and heard Hank apologizing to him as he walked away.Lina suddenly felt ashamed and felt that she shouldn't be so rude to Fann.He wasn't wrong--he was kind of a good guy, actually--but she didn't know how to say it to make them understand.
She quickened her pace and walked towards the church with her eyes straight ahead.A group of people at the door backed away one after another, letting her walk up the steps step by step, forcing herself to move forward slowly, restraining the urge to run into the church quickly.Everyone—except Brad Stephens, who grinned at her like a puppy—looked around as she climbed the steps.After Lina was transferred to the patrol team, Matt Hogan, who became Frank Wallace's working partner, focused on lighting cigarettes, as if trying to create nuclear fusion in his hands.
Lina held her chin high and kept her eyes averted so that no one would talk to her.But she could still feel them staring at her, and she knew they would start whispering as soon as she moved away.
One of the most annoying things about going to church is meeting the crowd.Everyone in the town knew what happened to her.They all knew she had been kidnapped and raped.The details of the case were reported in great detail in newspapers.They watched her recover and go home like a soap opera or a football game.Every time Lina goes shopping in the store, someone always looks at the scar on her hand.Every time she walks through a room full of people, she always feels that someone is throwing a pitiful look at her.As if they knew all too well what she had been through, as if they knew all too well what it was like for someone who was once strong and fearless to be completely helpless for a moment or even ever since.
The doors of the church were closed tightly, so that the hot air could not come in and the cold air could not get out.Lina and a deacon reached out to the doorknob at the same time, and their hands touched each other.She backed away quickly as if burned, and waited for the door to open, her eyes lowered.She walked across the vestibule into the church, staring at the red carpet and the white carved legs that lined the pews in the great room, lest anyone try to strike up a conversation with her.
The interior of the church is modest by Baptist standards, a small church for the size of the town.Older townspeople used to attend church at the original Baptist Church on Stokes Street, and their donations followed there.As for the Crescent Baptist Church, which is about thirty years old, it often hosts bachelor parties, divorcees and single-parent gatherings in the basement.The new moon rarely mentions the vengeful God, and its sermons are mostly about forgiveness, love, mercy and peace.Priest Vann would never accuse the faithful of their crimes or frighten them with hellfire.There's only joy here, or so the church bulletin board says.Lina was not surprised that Hank would choose this church.It was here in the basement that the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting he attended was held, next to the teen parenting seminar.
Lina chose a pew near the front because she knew Hank would want to be close to the pastor during his regular Sunday forgiveness class.In front of her sat David Fine's wife and two young children, luckily they didn't look back.Lina crossed her legs and smoothed her trousers, and suddenly found a woman sitting at the other end of the bench staring at her hands.Lina crossed her arms and looked at the podium.I saw the pulpit standing in the center, and many large chairs with velvet cushions were displayed on the left and right sides.Behind that was the choir box, and beside it was the organ, whose ducts stood like lying ribs on either side of the christening altar.In the center of the platform is a statue of Jesus with arms outstretched and legs crossed.
Hank sat down beside her, and she stayed away.She glanced at her watch.The sermon at half past nine is about to begin.It was over in about an hour, and then the Sunday class took another half hour.Leaving the church around eleven o'clock, and then heading to the muffin house under Highway 2, where Hank eats lunch and Lina slowly enjoys a cup of coffee.Go home at noon.Lina cleans the house and writes several reports.At half past one, she had to go to the police station to discuss the Jenny Weaver case.The briefing will take about three hours if I'm lucky, and then I'll go home and grab a bite to eat and go to church for evening classes.There seemed to be a chorus of hymns afterward, which ended at about half past nine.When they got home, it was time for Lina to go to bed.
Thinking of this, she exhaled slowly, thinking with great relief that at least she had something to do today.She didn't waste the day.
"It's about to start," Hank whispered.The organ played, and he picked up a book of hymns from the shelf in front of him.He fiddled with the booklet, and said, "Pastor Fann said you can come to him after get off work tomorrow."
Lina pretended not to hear, but the clock in her head had marked the appointment: at least there was something more to do.At least agreeing to this meeting should keep Hank in town longer.
"Lily?" he said.Finally, the chant began and he had to give up.
Lina stood up with everyone.Hank sings "God Keep Me Close to You," his baritone voice throbbing in her ears.Lina is too lazy to even shape her lips.She licks her front teeth, her eyes following Hank's fingers across the lyrics.Finally, she looked up at the cross.Looking at the statue of Jesus crucified on the cross, Lina felt relaxed, an indescribable peace.Even if she hated to admit it, its familiarity was comforting.
Sarah drove her dark green BMW Z3 through downtown Hasdale, keeping it in second gear.This car is a product of impulse buying, and if you spend more than 30,000 yuan, it can be considered an impulse buying.When Sarah bought the car, the ink on her divorce papers was still wet, and she needed to do something crazy and escapade to divert the mood.This Z3 fits that need.Sadly, when she was driving home from the car dealership in Macon, she discovered that the new car wasn't making her life any easier.Instead, she just felt ostentatious and stupid, especially since her family was quite unforgiving.Two years later, she still feels occasional embarrassment when she sees the car parked in the driveway.
Billy—one of her two greyhounds—sat in the passenger seat, head bowed because the roof of the little sports car was low for him.It licks its mouth from time to time, but is generally quiet, its eyes closed tightly against the air conditioner that blows its pointed ears back.The corners of its mouth are slightly raised, as if it is smiling and enjoying the ride.Sarah watched it out of the corner of her eye, and wondered if her life was that simple.
The high street is pretty empty because all the shops are closed on Sundays.Except for hardware stores and grocery stores, most stores are closed by noon on Saturday.Sarah was a native, having been born just down the street at Grant Medical Center, the only hospital in the area at the time.She knew the street as well as a favorite book.
Sarah turned slowly at the college entrance and pulled the car into her parking spot in front of Hasdell Children's Hospital.Even though the car was air-conditioned, when she opened the door, she still found that her legs against the leather seat were wet and sticky.She had long been psychologically prepared to welcome the heat outside, but she was still a little overwhelmed.Even Billy hesitated before jumping out of the car.It looked around the parking lot, probably regretting coming here with Sarah instead of staying in the cool of the house with Bubba.
Sarah wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.She threw on denim shorts, a camisole, and Jeffrey's old shirt casually when she went out in the morning, but the heat and humidity of the bay couldn't stop her.Even if it rains rarely, it can't quench the heat.Sometimes it was so hot that Sarah forgot what cool weather was.
"Come on," she said to the dog, tugging on its retractable collar.
Billy ignored her as usual.She let go of the neck strap and watched its slender back as it slid toward the back of the hospital.Its hind legs and buttocks bear scars from being hit by a grating when it started running on a greyhound track.Every time she saw these scars, there was always a throbbing pain in her heart.
Billy went about his business calmly, and stretched his legs towards the sloth closest to the hospital.The land behind the hospital belongs to the college, and they planted dense trees here.When the weather is not so hot, there are often students jogging along the trails inside.In the morning she watched the TV news from the city of Savannah, and knew that they were advising people not to go out in the sun unless they had to.
Sarah fumbled around the key ring and found the key to the back door.By the time she unlocked the door, her neck and back were already dripping with sweat.There was a bowl by the door, and while Billy was stretching out on the grass, she filled it with fresh water from the outside hose.
It was hot inside the hospital, too, mostly because Dr. Barney—a pediatrician, not an architect, after all—had insisted that the south-facing front wall be covered with insulating glass blocks.Sarah had a hard time imagining how hot the waiting room would be.All she knew was that it was hot enough to boil water in the back.
Sarah's mouth was too dry to whistle.She left the door open and waited for Billy to stroll in.After slowly muttering and drinking the water, it finally walked towards the house.Sarah saw it stop halfway in the corridor, looked around for a while, then lay down on the floor with a grunt.Looking at this sluggish animal, it's hard to imagine its successful career at the Ebloh dog race.Sarah bent over to pat it, untied it from the neck rope, and walked to the back office.
The hospital was designed like most pediatrician's offices.An L-shaped corridor runs through the entire building, with three consultation rooms on each side.There are three other examination rooms at the back of the corridor, but one of them is used for storage.In the center of the corridor is the nursing station that serves as the hub of the hospital.There is a computer that stores data on current patients, and a row of ceiling-high filing cabinets that hold more recent medical records.Behind the waiting room is another medical record room, which keeps all medical records from 1969 to the present.Sooner or later they'd have to clear those files, but she didn't have the time, and she couldn't ask her colleagues to do errands that she couldn't do herself.
Her tennis shoes rattled as she walked across the clean tile floor.She didn't turn on the light.She knew the place well enough, even in the dark, but that wasn't the main reason.When the fluorescent lamp is on, the dazzling light when the lamp tube wakes up seems to disturb the work in front of me.
By the time she reached the office across from the nursing station, she had unbuttoned her shirt and wrapped it around her waist.She wasn't wearing a bra, but she wasn't worried about bumping into strangers out of the blue.
Her office walls are plastered with pictures of little patients.It started with a mother who gave Sarah a photo of her child at school.Sarah posted it on the wall and after a day another photo was added and she posted it next to the first one.Twelve years on, the pictures on the walls now extend to hallways and staff bathrooms.Sarah remembered all these kids: their runny noses and ear pains, their school stress and family problems.A picture of Brad Stephens in his senior grades was posted near the bathroom shower head.There was a boy named Jimmy Powell, a kid who had been diagnosed with leukemia only a few months earlier, and Sarah taped his picture next to her phone as a daily reminder of him.Now he was in the hospital, and Sarah knew that in a few months she would be attending her little patient's funeral again.
Jenny Weaver's picture isn't on the wall.Her mother never brought her picture.Sarah can only review their shared memories with her medical records.
Sarah opened the creaking filing cabinet drawers.This group of cabinets is comparable in age to Dr. Barney, and equally difficult.No amount of WD-40 slide rail lubricant will save it.
"Trash." Sarah gritted her teeth seeing the drawers of the cabinet leaning forward.The top drawer was overflowing, and she had to hold the cabinet with her free hand to keep it from toppling over.
Sarah ran her fingers through the files tab and found Weaver's folder on a second glance.She pushed the cabinet and slammed the drawer shut.The voice echoed in the small office.Sarah wanted to pull it open and close again, just to make a little noise.
She sat down at her desk and turned on the lamp, her sweaty legs slipping on the faux leather seat.Maybe she should take the medical records home and look at them, at least it will be more comfortable.But Sarah is not to be comfortable.She took it as a form of atonement to sit out in the heat, wondering what she had been missing for the past three years.
Her metal-framed glasses were in her shirt front pocket, and Sarah panicked, fearing she'd crushed them when she sat down.The glasses are slightly bent, but not broken.She put it on, took a deep breath, and opened the medical records.
Three years ago, Jenny Weaver came to her hospital.She was ten years old at the time, and her weight was within the normal range for her height.Her first ailment was a sore throat, which was cured with antibiotics.There is a track record in the medical records.According to a note Sara had scribbled at the time, she had called Dottie Weaver a week later to confirm that Jenny was responding well to the medication.She did.
About two years ago, Jenny started gaining weight.Unfortunately, this was not uncommon at the time, especially for a girl like Jenny, who had her period shortly after her eleventh birthday.These girls are usually less physically active and also eat too much fast food.Hormones and dairy in meat shorten the developmental process.Sarah had seen reports in journals looking at treatments for girls who hit puberty eight years earlier.
Sarah continues to browse Jenny's medical records.Shortly after she started gaining weight, Jenny developed symptoms of a urinary tract infection.Three months later, she developed a vaginal fungal infection.According to Sarah's records, she did not suspect this at the time.Looking back now, her judgment at the time was questionable.Because this type of infection is most likely the beginning of a vicious circle.She turned to the next page and looked at the date.A year later, Jenny came to the doctor again with urethritis.A year is quite a long time.Sarah pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down the dates, including the dates of two other doctor visits for Jenny since then, both for sore throats.Maybe both of Jenny's parents have custody.It should be possible to trace the dates to see if they matched the dates of her father's visit.
Sarah put down her pen and searched her memory for fragments of Jenny's father.Most of the children came to the hospital accompanied by their mothers, and Sarah could not remember seeing Jenny's father.Some women, especially recently divorced women, will initiate conversations about their husbands when their children are not around.Sarah was always uncomfortable at these times and interrupted them before getting to the point.But some women don't care, and talk about private things that parents will never let their children know.Dottie Weaver was quite talkative, even talkative, but she never spoke out about her ex-husband in the hospital, but Sarah knew from her rather sporadic payment methods that she was not financially well off.
Sarah rubbed her eyes, her glasses pushed up.She looked at the clock on the wall.It was eleven o'clock for lunch at her parents' house, and Jeffrey would be waiting for her at the police station around one-thirty.
Thinking of Jeffrey, Sarah shook her head.An unbearable pain settled at the base of her neck, preventing her from concentrating.She took off her glasses and wiped the lenses with the corner of her shirt, hoping that this would help her see things more clearly.
"Hello?" Sarah called, opening the door of her parents' house.The cold wind in the house made her skin crawl with sticky skin.
"Here we come," said her mother from the kitchen.
Sarah left her briefcase by the door, kicked off her tennis shoes, and headed toward the back of the house.Billy walked in front of her with small steps, and stared back at her, as if he was blaming her for why he stayed in the sweltering hospital for so long when there was such a cool place.To express his displeasure, he lay on his side in the hallway, forcing Sarah to step over him to get to the back of the house.
Sarah went into the kitchen and saw Kathy standing in front of the stove frying chicken.Her mother was still in her church attire, but her shoes and stockings had been removed, and an apron that said "Don't mess with the cook" was loosely tied around her waist.
"Hi, Mom." Sarah kissed her on the cheek.Sarah was the tallest of the family, and she could easily rest her chin on top of her mother's head without having to stretch her neck.Tessa inherited Kathy's petite stature and blonde hair.Sarah sent her truth.
Kathy glanced at Sarah disapprovingly.
"Did you forget to put on your bra this morning?"
Sarah's cheeks were flushed, and she quickly took off the shirt around her waist, put it on over the T-shirt, and said, "I was in the hospital just now. I didn't plan to stay there for too long, so I didn't turn on the air conditioner."
"It's not a good day for frying," Kathy added, "but your father wants fried chicken."
Sarah had been taught to sacrifice for her family, but she said anyway, "You can send him to a fast food restaurant."
"He doesn't need to eat that junk food."
Sarah said nothing more, and sighed like Billy.She buttoned the shirt all the way to the end, and asked her mother with a wry smile, "Is this all right?"
Kathy nodded, reaching to the counter for a tissue and wiping her forehead.
"It's not even noon, it's probably already thirty degrees outside."
“我知道。”莎拉回了句，盘起一条腿往厨房高凳子上一坐。她看着母亲在厨房里走动，很高兴一切如常。凯西穿着件绿色垂直细条纹的亚麻裙装。她的一头金发——只带着几抹银丝——梳往后脑扎成松松的马尾，几乎和莎拉一样的发型。
凯西用纸巾擤了下鼻子，然后丢进垃圾桶，“告诉我昨晚发生了什么事。”她说着回到炉子前。
莎拉耸耸肩。
“杰佛瑞是不得已的。”
“这点我毫不怀疑。我在意的是你撑得住吗？”
莎拉咀嚼着这问题。老实说，她有点撑不住了。
凯西似乎感觉到了。她将一片打扁的生鸡肉放进热油里，转身对女儿说，“昨晚我打电话给你，想知道你的状况。”
莎拉凝视着母亲，强迫自己不可以移开视线。
“我在杰佛瑞那里。”
“我想也是，不过你爸爸开了车到他家去查看。”
“是吗？”莎拉惊讶的说。
"why?"
“原先我们以为你会来找我们，”凯西回答，“后来发现你不在家，就猜你大概在他那里。”
莎拉叉着手臂。
“你不觉得这么做有点唐突？”
“再唐突也比不上生小孩。”凯西断然说，用叉子指着莎拉。
“下次记得打电话。”
莎拉就快要四十岁了，凯西依然有本事让她觉得自己像个小孩。莎拉望着窗外，感觉就像做坏事被逮到一样。
“莎拉？”
莎拉含糊应了声：“什么事，妈妈？”
“我很替你担心。”
“我知道，妈妈。”
“一切都还好吗？”
莎拉的脸颊一阵烧热，不过是为了别的原因。
“泰莎在哪？”
“还没下楼呢。”
泰莎住在双亲家的车库楼上。莎拉的房子就在距离这儿一哩外的同一条路上，不过已经足够给她独立的感觉了。泰莎却不在乎和双亲住得如此近。她和她们的父亲艾迪一起工作，是家族水电公司的员工，她可以每天轻松的下楼来报告工作上的事。况且，泰莎算是半个青少女，她还没想过要拥有自己的房子。也许永远不会有这一天。
凯西将炸鸡肉翻面，把叉子搁在锅子边缘沥油。她把叉子放在小碟子里，转身对着莎拉，叉着手臂。
“到底出了什么事？”
“没事。”莎拉回答。
“我是说，只有昨晚那个女孩。还有婴儿。我猜你大概也听说了那个婴儿的事了。”
“我们还没走进教堂，消息就已经传遍了。”
“这个嘛，”莎拉耸耸肩，“的确有点棘手。”
“我真不知道你怎么受得了那工作，孩子。”
“有时候连我自己也不明白。”
凯西站在那儿，等着下文。
“然后呢？”她催促着。
莎拉捏着颈背。
“杰佛瑞那里……”她说，“没有结果。”
“没有结果？”她母亲问。
“我是说，在那方面……”莎拉两手比划着，示意她母亲自己想象其余的部分。
“噢，”凯西终于懂了，“肉体上的？”
莎拉又红了脸，算是回答了。
“这也没什么好奇怪的，不是吗？毕竟发生了那种事。”
“他很……”莎拉斟酌着字句，“他很……突然。我的意思是说，我尽力了……”她再度欲言又止。
“以前从来没有过吗？”
莎拉耸耸肩。这是第一次发生在她身上，至于杰佛瑞和其他女人之间就难说了。
“最糟糕的是，”莎拉犹豫着说，“认识他这么久，我从来没见过他那么狂乱。他非常气愤。我真担心他会揍人。”
“我记得有一次，你父亲不肯——”
“妈。”莎拉阻止她。和她母亲谈这事而不提起她父亲已经很不容易了，更何况万一杰佛瑞发现她告诉别人他表现不佳的事，不杀了她才怪。对杰佛瑞来说，性能力几乎和身为好警察的荣誉同等重要。
“是你先提起的。”凯西提醒她说，然后转身继续处理炸鸡。她从纸卷撕下一张纸巾铺在盘子上，把炸鸡块放上去。
“好吧，”莎拉说，“我该怎么办？”
“凡事顺着他，”凯西回答，“不然就别理他。”她拿起另一块炸鸡。
“都到了这地步，你确定还要继续？”
"What's the meaning?"
“意思是，你到底要不要和他在一起？也许这才是重点。你离婚以后就一直和他纠缠不清。”她把叉子在锅边敲了敲。
“你父亲说的对，别占着茅坑不拉屎。”
前门砰的打开，莎拉听见泰莎咚咚的踢掉鞋子。
泰莎大喊，“妈？”
“在厨房。”凯西应声说。她给了莎拉严厉的一瞥。
“你了解我的意思吧？”
“了解，妈。”
泰莎大步通过走廊，一边喃喃念着，“笨狗。”显然正从比利身上跨过。厨房门弹开，泰莎一脸恼火的走了进来。她穿件粉红色旧浴袍，里面是绿色T恤和运动短裤。脸色苍白，带着点病容。
凯西问她，“怎么了？”
泰莎摇摇头，走向冰箱打开门说，“我需要喝杯咖啡。”
凯西不理会这要求，亲了下她的额头，探触着她的体温。
“你的身体好热。”
“外面起码有三十八度那么热，”泰莎抱怨着，紧贴着冰箱，但没有钻进去，“我当然热了。”接着好像为了强调这说法，她连着好几次把浴袍打开又合上，让冷空气进入。
“老天，我要搬到四季分明的地方去。我发誓一定要。我才不管他们的语言有多可笑或者会不会调玉米糊。总该有别的地方可去吧？”
“这就是你心情不好的原因？”莎拉问，伸手摸泰莎的额头。身为医生，莎拉知道凯西的亲吻和体温计具有同样的功效。不过泰莎是她的妹妹，她总得有些行动。
泰莎挣脱开去。
“我月经快来了。我好热，我要吃巧克力。”她抬高下巴。
“看见没？”她指着一颗大青春痘说。
“想不看都难喔。”凯西说着，把冰箱门关上。
莎拉大笑起来，泰莎撞一下她的臂膀。
“不知道爸爸会替它取什么名字？”莎拉揶揄着，拍一下她的背。两个女儿还在青春期时，艾迪常喜欢拿她们脸上的痘疤开玩笑。有一次父亲将她介绍给他的一个朋友，说这是莎拉和她的新痘子波波。莎拉每次想起这事都还会脸红。
泰莎正要回嘴，电话响了。才响第一声她就拿起了话筒。
两秒钟过去，泰莎低声咒骂着，然后大声说，“知道了，爸。”艾迪显然已经拿起楼上的分机来接听了。
莎拉微笑着想，这天就像是过去二十年来的许多周日。不同的是没看见父亲走进来，傻气的说看见他的三个女孩光脚站在厨房里真是件快乐的事。
泰莎说，“等一下，”然后用手捂住话筒。她转身问莎拉，“你在吗？”
“是谁？”莎拉问，其实已经猜到了。
“你认为呢？”泰莎打断她。她没等莎拉回应，直接对着话筒说，“等等，杰佛瑞。她在。”
格兰特郡警局在杰佛瑞之前的局长班恩·渥克，把他的办公室设置在警局后面的简报室旁边。每天，班恩都会坐在那张几乎占满整个房间的大办公桌前，每个找他谈话的人都必须坐在这巨大木桌的另一端，两人的膝盖顶着桌脚，背部磨擦着墙壁。每天早晨，一群侦查小组的警官——当时都是些男人——都会被召集到这里，听取当天的任务指派，然后他们离开，局长把门关上。之后班恩便一直待在里面，直到下班时间才出来，开车经过两条街到他常去的餐厅吃晚餐。
杰佛瑞接局长职位之后所做的第一件事，就是把班恩的办公桌移出去。为了通过门口，他们还把那橡木制的怪物拆了开来。杰佛瑞把班恩的旧办公室改作储藏室，自己则选了小组办公室前面的小房间当作办公室。某个寂静的周末，杰佛瑞给房间安装了一扇大窗子，如此一来他可以看见小组人员，更重要的是，他们也能看见他。窗子有百叶遮帘，不过他很少将它关闭。此外杰佛瑞也让办公室门随时敞开。
他望着外面的小组房间，想着不知道他的手下对珍妮·威佛枪杀案会有什么看法。杰佛瑞对自己的行为产生深重的罪恶感，尽管他不断告诉自己当时他毫无选择余地。每次他想起这事，总觉呼吸艰难，好像肺里氧气不足似的。许多疑问在他脑中盘旋：他是否做了正确的决定？珍妮是否真的会无情的开枪射杀那孩子？莎拉似乎是这么认为。昨晚她说要是杰佛瑞没有制止那女孩，今天他们手上恐怕是两具青少年尸体。当然，昨晚莎拉还说了很多其他令他丧气的话。
杰佛瑞握着双手举在脸的前方，头靠在两根大拇指上，想着莎拉。有时候她会为了替自己争口气而说个没完。莎拉最性感的地方之一是她的嘴唇。很可惜她不懂得适时的闭嘴，把它用在对杰佛瑞有益的地方，而不是光说个不停。
“警长？”法兰克·华勒斯敲了敲门。
“进来。”杰佛瑞回应。
“外面真热。”法兰克说，仿佛在解释自己为何没系领带。他身穿有着廉价光泽的深黑色套装，衬衫最上面一颗扣子解开，露出底下的黄白色汗衫。法兰克像以往一样呑云吐雾。刚才他大概在后门外抽烟，想在进来开会之前给杰佛瑞一点准备时间。这种大热天，为何还会有人想在手上拿根热烫的香烟，杰佛瑞永远搞不懂。
法兰克原本可以接班恩·渥克的职务，只要他提出要求。不过这位老警官精得很，不会这么做。法兰克大半辈子都待在格兰特郡警局，见识过这地方的种种变化。有一次，法兰克告诉杰佛瑞，警察局长是属于年轻人的工作，但是当时杰佛瑞的想法和现在一样，觉得他的意思是说警察局长是傻瓜干的差事。在格兰特郡待了一年，杰佛瑞了解到，没有哪个心智正常的人会甘心承受这种压力。可是已经太迟了。这时他已经遇见莎拉。
“相当忙碌的周末。”法兰克将周末治安报告递给杰佛瑞。档案比平时厚得多。
“是啊。”杰佛瑞指着张椅子示意他坐下。
“洗衣店疑似被闯入。玛拉把这案子告诉你了吗？还有，校园里有两、三桩酒醉吸毒驾驶案件，和平常差不多，喝得烂醉而且闹得凶。还有几件家庭案件，都没有备案。”
杰佛瑞心不在焉听着法兰克念出报告内容。又长又令人泄气。连格兰特郡的治安都这么糟，其他大城市就更别提了。平时的情况比这平静多了，热天显然让人变得暴戾。自从当上警察之后，杰佛瑞便深深了解这点。
“就这些……”法兰克把档案阖上，“报告完毕。”
“很好。”杰佛瑞接过报告。他的手指在文件上轻弹着，然后悄悄的把珍妮·威佛案的档案推向桌子彼端。档案像头白象躺在那儿。
法兰克活像看着占星报告似的狐疑望着那份文件，犹豫了一下，才拿起来看。法兰克在这职位上待久了，以为自己什么都见过，可是当他看见莎拉拍的照片，还是难掩一脸惊愕。
“老天。”法兰克轻叹一声，伸手进口袋。他掏出香烟，然后大概猛然想起自己身在什么地方，又把它收回去。他没看完档案，匆匆将它阖上。
杰佛瑞说，“那小孩不是她生的。”
“是啊。”法兰克清清喉咙，不安的交叉双腿。他今年五十八岁，已经到了可以领一笔优渥退休俸的年龄。为什么他还继续做这工作，没人知道。像这种案子大概会让他疑惑自己干嘛每天到这儿上班吧。
“真要命。”法兰克问。
"What is this?"
“女性生殖器切除。”杰佛瑞告诉他。
“非洲或中东的习俗。”他举起手，制止法兰克继续发问。
“我知道你想问什么。她们是南方浸信会信徒，不是回教徒。”
“那她这种想法是哪来的？”
“这正是我们得去调查的。”
法兰克摇摇头，像是要把那影像逐出脑海。
杰佛瑞说，“林顿医生正赶来向我们做简报。”觉得用这头衔来称呼莎拉有点奇怪。法兰克是艾迪·林顿的牌友。他可说是看着莎拉长大。
“那孩子也会一起来吗？”法兰克指的是丽娜。
“当然。”杰佛瑞正眼注视着他说。法兰克眉头一皱，显然他并不赞同。
尽管法兰克充满偏见——性别歧视，也许加上种族歧视，可以肯定的是年龄歧视——他非常关心丽娜。他有个女儿，大约是丽娜的年纪。从杰佛瑞将她和法兰克编成一组开始，他便一直极力反对。每星期法兰克都会进他的办公室，要求杰佛瑞替他换个搭档，而每星期杰佛瑞也都会告诉他最好赶快习惯。因为这城市延揽杰佛瑞的原因之一，就是希望他能激发这地方的潜力。杰佛瑞到警察学校精心挑选了丽娜·亚当斯，有心培植她成为警局第一位女性警探。
现在杰佛瑞却不知道该拿她怎么办。他让她暂时和布雷德·史帝芬搭档，直到她的手伤痊愈，希望她利用这段时间好好调适心情，好回到工作岗位。就在上个月，她的医生告诉她可以恢复日常活动了，可是丽娜想要和她的旧搭档合作。至于法兰克，他甚至连丽娜和他打招呼都无法正眼看她。杰佛瑞听法兰克说过无数次，这个女人不属于警界，而丽娜的遇难似乎正好证明了他的看法。
基本上，杰佛瑞不赞同法兰克的说法。女警对警察团队很有帮助。理论上，警力的结构应该反应社会的结构。丽娜为这工作注入了一丝体贴。她很适合处理某些类型的罪犯，也很懂得该如何面对女性受害者，她在侦查小组的前辈们很少能做到这点。再者，有了一名女警之后，也激励了更多女性加入。现在巡警队已经有十五名女性了。班恩·渥克离职时，警局里少数几个女性职员是秘书们。尽管有了这种种进步，当杰佛瑞想起丽娜的遭遇、她所受到的对待，他真的很想把她关在家里，拿把散弹枪站在外面保护她，免得她再度受到伤害。
法兰克打断他的思绪，问他，“咱们内部会对这件事进行调查吗？”他顿了一下，用指尖枢着档案夹一角。
“我是说威佛枪杀案。”
杰佛瑞点点头，坐回椅子里。
“早上我和市长谈过了。请你负责找布雷德和丽娜做笔录。由巴迪·康佛担任这案子的市府律师。”
“他是公设辩护人。”法兰克指出。
“是啊，不过这案子不一样，”杰佛瑞对他说，“必须为这女孩的母亲着想。市政府对这类事件设有保险政策。也许他们会在庭外达成协议。我也不清楚。”杰佛瑞耸耸肩。
“那女孩拿枪威胁着要杀人，处理起来很棘手，你懂吧？”
“当然，”法兰克回答，“我懂。”他等了几秒钟，才又问，“你没事吧，局长？”
杰佛瑞的决心开始动摇。昨晚和莎拉一起时的那种失落感又浮现，沉甸甸压着胸口。他从来没枪杀过任何人，更别说枪杀一个小女孩。他脑海中不断重演着和珍妮对峙的那一幕，仔细回想每个细节，想找出他的谈判究竟是哪里出了问题。他应该可以说或者做些什么，来让她把枪放下。应该有别的办法才对。
“局长？”法兰克说。
“无论如何，布雷德和丽娜都会挺你到底。你知道吧，局长？”
“是啊。”杰佛瑞回答，对法兰克的话感到不安，正因为他知道布雷德和丽娜就算知道他做了错事，也依然会挺他。司法有不少灰色地带，但是在紧要关头，警察一定会互挺。布雷德会这么做是因为他相当崇敬杰佛瑞，丽娜这么做则是因为她感觉对他有所亏欠，因为他让她恢复警职。
对杰佛瑞而言，这并不能令他稍觉宽慰。
两人沉默不语。杰佛瑞回头，看着排列在对面墙上的层架。他的所有枪击战利品都在那里，他的高超射击术的奖赏。放在底部层架上的，是一只他参加奥本足球联赛时的旧足球。还有一些格兰特郡和过去伯明罕的旧同事的照片，旁边是他和莎拉度蜜月时替她拍的几张照片。直到最近他们又开始约会，他才把它们摆出来。可是现在他却有点后悔这么做，虽说他很希望两人能破镜重圆。杰佛瑞相当在意昨晚她的冷淡态度、被他碰触时的僵硬反应，还有一直指点他该怎么做，好像他从来没做过似的，好像他从来没和其他比莎拉柔顺千百倍的女人做过似的。
法兰克在椅子上转身，因为侦查小组和接待室之间的分隔门突然打开。莎拉走了过来，手上提着公事包。她穿件很像是长T恤的淡蓝色裙装。看得出来她决定穿着网球鞋，但不穿袜子来搭配服装。说不定连腿毛都没刮。
两个男人望着莎拉走向办公室。她的头发凌乱，杰佛瑞怀疑她连头发都懒得梳。莎拉向来不是追逐时尚的女人，也很少化妆。有时候这很性感，有时候却让她显得邋遢，好像她把医生的身分看得比身为女人更重要。当她朝他们走来，他发现她戴的眼镜有些弯曲。不知怎的，这比任何事情更令他恼火。
看她走进办公室，法兰克立刻站起，杰佛瑞也跟着起身。
“嗨。”她不自在的笑着招呼。杰佛瑞很高兴她觉得不安。
“嗨。”法兰克说着，把外套钮扣扣上。
莎拉冲着法兰克微笑，然后说，“我打了电话给尼克·薛尔顿，”她指的是乔治亚州调查局格兰特郡分局探员。
“我请他找出所有类似的肉体残害案件。他说最迟周三就会有结果。”
见杰佛瑞没回应，法兰克好意的说，“干得好。”
“另外，”莎拉又说，“我也打了电话到各家医院。昨晚没有人上医院去做产后治疗。我留是艾迪·林顿的牌友。他可说是看着莎拉长大。
法兰克拉着衬衫领子。
“这么说来，你认为那女孩会不会是自己动手的？我是说割礼？”
“老天，不可能。”莎拉被惹恼了似的。
“还有，那不叫割礼。”他对他说。
“这情形相当于男性去势。她的阴蒂和阴唇全部被割除，残余的部分则用线缝合起来。”
“噢。”法兰克说，对这说明露出一脸不安。
莎拉撇着嘴。
“就像男性的阴茎被割掉一样。”
法兰克不安的看着杰佛瑞和莎拉，然后视线又回到杰佛瑞身上。
“总之，”莎拉指着公事包说，“我准备好开始做简报了。”
“延后了。”杰佛瑞说，知道自己语气冷酷，但也无能为力。之前他打电话要莎拉早点来，却没解释原因。他对她说，“再过十五分钟，朵蒂·威佛也会赶来。我想尽快让她离开这儿。”
“噢，”她讶异的说，“好吧。我可以回医院去写报告。我几个小时以后再回来好吗？”
杰佛瑞摇头。
“我希望你在场听她接受约询。”
莎拉疑惑的看着他。
“我又不是警察。”
“丽娜是，”他对她说，“到时候由她负责讯问。我希望你在场是因为她认识你。”
她手叉着腰说，“丽娜还是朵蒂？”
法兰克轻咳一声。
“我得去打几通电话。”他朝莎拉礼貌的点头，然后离开房间。
他离开后，莎拉转向杰佛瑞，质疑的看着他。
他问，“那是睡衣吗？”
"what?"
“你身上穿的，”他指着她的衣服，“很像睡衣。”
莎拉尴尬的大笑。
“不是。”她说，像是听了不太高明的笑话。
“你应该穿一套比较专业的服装。”他说，想着昨晚她穿的衣服。她的运动裤和邋遢的旧T恤没有丝毫情趣可言，而且她的腿摸起来比他的腿还要毛茸茸。
他问，“穿得像样点会死吗？”
莎拉压低声音，每次她生气时都会这样。
“你为什么要用这种口气跟我说话？好像你是我老妈。”
他胸中生起一股怒火，强烈得让他紧闭着嘴，只怕出口伤人。
“杰佛瑞，”莎拉说，“你怎么了？”
他从她身边走过，关上房门。
“帮我个忙会死吗？”
“帮忙？”她摇头，好像他说的是外国话。
“留下来陪威佛女士。”他提醒她说。
莎拉长吁了口气。
“我该对她说什么呢？”
“算了。”他说。他把百叶遮帘关闭，只为了找点事做。
“当我没说。”
“告诉我，你希望我怎么做？”她说，声音冷静但充满愠怒。
“你要我回家换衣服？要我离开，让你独自静一静？”
他转过身来说，“我要你别再操我，就这样。”
莎拉揉着下巴。这回似乎轮到她呑回差点冲口而出的话。
他眉毛一抬，催促她说话。
“什么？”他问，明知自己在逼迫她，但也渴望能一抒胸中的怒气。
莎拉深吸一口气，然后缓缓吐出。
“我不懂你为什么要对我生气。”
杰佛瑞没回应。她用指背抚摸着他的领带，掌心贴在他胸前。
“拜托，杰佛瑞，请告诉我该怎么做。”
他为之语塞。他转过身子，不知该做什么好，只好走去把遮帘拉开。他感觉莎拉的手搁在他肩上。
她说，“没关系。”
“我知道。”他猝然说，可是他并不知道。他感觉脑袋仿佛着了火，每次他眨眼，脑中便浮现珍妮·威佛颈子被子弹贯穿、头猛的往后仰的画面。
莎拉用两只手臂环抱住他，嘴唇贴着他的颈背。
“没事的。”她轻声说，吐出的冰凉气息抚慰着他。她又吻了下他的颈子，让嘴唇在那儿逗留了好一阵子。他的身体逐渐放松，杰佛瑞不禁想昨晚她为何没这么做。然后他记起来她的确做了。
她再度对他说，“没事的。”
自早晨以来，这是他头一次感到平静。他又可以顺畅的呼吸了。这一瞬间，他感觉舒坦极了，似乎会做出什么傻事来，例如哭泣，或者更糟，告诉莎拉他爱她。
他问，“你到底要不要加入这次约询？”
她松开双手。他感觉得到这不是她期待的反应。他望着她，思索着该说什么，然而脑中一片空白。
最后，她点了下头，对他说，“你怎么说，我就怎么做。”
杰佛瑞站在观察室里，透过单向镜看着莎拉安抚朵蒂·威佛。他向来没办法和莎拉赌气太久，主要是因为莎拉不允许这种事发生。
朵蒂·威佛是个身材稍胖的女人，有着褐发和橄榄色皮肤。发型有些过时，不过很适合她。她有一张杰佛瑞所说的老人脸，就是那种十岁时的模样看起来和四十岁时差不多的脸。她的脸颊肉呼呼的，身上大概挂了二十磅的赘肉。她鼻梁上方的额头有深刻的皱纹，让她的表情显得相当严肃，就连哭的时候也一样。
杰佛瑞转头看着丽娜，她就