Page 91 of The Deepest Lake
What was she thinking?
Eva winks at the other writers before locking eyes with Rose again. “Cracks and all.”
From the front of the room someone whispers, “Cracks and all.”
Eva hugs Rose again, rocking back and forth in a locked embrace that Rose can’t break away from without offending Eva.
“Cracks and all!” another writer calls out, and then the wave spreads, as everyone joins in, chanting the anthem. “Broken but beautiful. Cracks and all!”
Once the anthem dies down, Rose duck-walks back to her seat, face burning. The craft talk continues, but Rose can’t hear a single word. White noise is fizzing in her ears.
Rose thinks of Rachel’s workshop two days ago, that strange moment when Eva locked eyes with Rose and asked, “As a mother, what do you think?”
Rose said she wasn’t a mother. She actually said it twice, because Eva made her repeat it.
At the time, Rose wasn’t worried about Eva’s question—but she’s worried about it now.
Eva knows, because of the prompt. Worse. Eva knew. From the very first morning of workshops, if not before.
Rose snaps to attention now, because Eva has called on her again. “Rose, can you go ask the kitchen staff what time they’d like to serve lunch? I know how much you like to interact with staff, and your Spanish is so good.”
The compliment feels forced but Rose answers the only way she can. “Um, sure.”
With her cheeks and chest still flushed with nervous heat, Rose gets up again, walking past Isobel, who is fluent in Spanish, and past Diane and Noelani, both of whom like to help. Rose has been given this task, why? Certainly not to make it easier to eavesdrop on Barbara, or Hans—who probably returned to Casa Eva ten or twenty minutes after her—or to walk around hoping to catch a glimpse of Mauricio.
It makes no sense, unless Eva is completely unaware that Rose is here to get information.
It makes no sense, unless Eva is very much aware, and wants nothing more than to watch Rose squirm.
Eva wouldn’t take the risk of making Rose uncomfortable if she had something serious to hide. So that makes Eva . . . innocent? Unaware of some staffer’s bad behavior? Unaware of what happened to Jules?
Rose is almost to the house now, feeling suddenly shaky, like a mouse who has to cross a vast field, aware of having no cover as a hawk circles overhead.
Concha comes into the kitchen just as Rose enters, stammering a single word. “¿Cuándo?”
Concha gestures to the steaming trays of tamales that are ready for transport to the patio. “Diez minutos.”
Rose nods, unable to smile. She doesn’t know if Concha is to be trusted. She has no choice but to try. She gets up her nerve to ask, “Ha visto a Mauricio?” Have you seen Mauricio?
Hans comes around the corner, big hands hidden in cooking mitts. “Mauricio was arrested last night.”
“What?”
“He stole from Eva.” Hans pulls off the mitts aggressively, like a defeated boxer yanking off his gloves. “Yeah, it blows. He’s been taking money—cash he was supposed to be delivering to charities on Eva’s behalf. Little shit. Won’t be doing it anymore, now.”
Rose feels like she was going down the stairs, in the dark, and just missed a step. Her stomach drops.
Eva’s own “son,” arrested, with her knowledge, and almost certainly, with her assistance.
Maybe he did steal. Maybe he knew he was about to be caught. Maybe that’s why Mauricio was acting so strangely yesterday, when he confronted Rose and pretended he wanted to talk to her.
But Rose doesn’t think so.
“Go ahead,” Hans says, turning back. “You’re supposed to go tell the writers that lunch is in ten minutes?”
Noelani dashes in just as Rose is turning to go. “Second message from Eva—she says we are behind schedule, so serve the lunch in the classroom and we’ll eat there.”
Rose’s sense of dread deepens. There won’t be a full lunch break. No easy way to leave Casa Eva without being noticed. No easy way to huddle at the far end of the lawn, talking privately with Lindsay.