Reconstructing Amelia (34 page)

“I haven’t gotten through them all yet!” Kate shouted.

“Dad?” came a voice from the doorway then. One of Jeremy’s sons was standing there, looking boyish and handsome and scared. “Are you okay?”

Jeremy shot upright and smiled, so quickly and convincingly that it lifted the hairs on Kate’s arms.

“Yeah, yeah, Andrew,” he said. “I’m fine. Just a problem with a case, nothing to worry about. Go back to your homework. We’ll keep it down out here.”

“Okay,” Andrew said skeptically, letting his eyes drift over to Kate for a second before shuffling for the door. “See you later.”

“Yeah, yeah, Drew,” Jeremy said. “I’ll see you later.”

They were both motionless and silent for a long time after Jeremy’s son disappeared. Kate hadn’t realized Jeremy’s children were home. As much as she wanted to scream at him some more, she couldn’t do that to his sons. Jeremy’s boys already had so much heartbreak headed their way. Once Vera finally did hear about the posts on insidethelaw.com, which she would, sooner or later, there was no way she’d stay with Jeremy. She was not the kind of woman to suffer betrayal lightly. There were other ways to find out if Jeremy was telling the truth anyway. Call those associates, check with his secretary. Better yet, Kate could send Lew. But there was one thing she did need to know.

“Hide the truth about what?” Kate asked. It was still bothering her, what Jeremy had meant.

“What?” he asked, looking battered and confused.

“You said I’d gone to so much trouble to ‘hide the truth.’ The truth about what?”

“Come on, Kate. I knew,” Jeremy said finally. “I’ve known for years.”

“Knew what?” Kate snapped, even though she was trying to keep her temper reigned in. “That she was a trusting girl, that she’d—”

“That she was mine.” Jeremy said, staring straight at Kate. “I knew that Amelia was my daughter.”

“Yours?” Kate choked out. “Amelia was
not
your daughter, Jeremy.”

“The timing fits exactly,” he said, as if she was just holding out.

How dare he try to claim Amelia, like yet another thing he deserved.

“You are joking, right?” She didn’t want to have this conversation with him. She knew what she knew, Jeremy’s delusions notwithstanding. “We slept together
once
, Jeremy. One time. And you weren’t the only one who was sleeping with more than one person. Trust me, Amelia was not your daughter. I know who her father was, and it wasn’t you.”

But Jeremy was shaking his head. He didn’t look like he was listening to a word Kate was saying. “As soon as I heard you were pregnant, I wondered, obviously,” he said. “But after Amelia’s eyes changed colors as a baby, then I knew for sure.”

“Stop it, Jeremy,” Kate’s voice was thready and high. She knew what she knew, and so why was she starting to panic? “I mean it.”

“Come on, Kate.” Jeremy’s eyes were clear, guiltless. His voice so utterly calm. He might have been wrong, but he fully believed that Amelia was his daughter. He ran a hand back and forth over his silver hair, tipping his head in Kate’s direction like he was making a point. “Look at me. You can’t tell me you didn’t put two and two together. My hair, her eyes.”

His hair? Jeremy had always had gray hair, ever since she’d known him. He’d been almost forty when they’d met, young for a full head of gray hair, but not absurdly so.

“I don’t know what you think you know, Jeremy,” Kate breathed. She should leave, now, before he said anything more. “But you’re wrong.”

“I didn’t know I had Waardenburg until my hair turned gray freshman year in college. But with Amelia, her eyes, you must have known as soon as they changed.”

He was right about that. Amelia had been diagnosed with Waardenburg syndrome when she was ten months old, as soon as her eyes changed from a matching blue-gray to one blue and one hazel. It was a genetic disease and Kate wasn’t a carrier. She’d been tested. She’d always assumed that Daniel must have been, and that his disease had just manifested in one of the myriad of less visible ways the syndrome could present itself. It wasn’t as though they’d ever spoken about it. That would have required discussing Amelia.

Kate’s palms were damp, her hands trembling. But so what if Jeremy had the same disorder? It could be coincidence. It had to be. She’d had sex with Daniel a dozen times, with Jeremy only once.

No. Jeremy couldn’t try to rewrite history. It had not been easy, but Kate had made peace with Daniel’s being Amelia’s father. It was one of the things that defined her life. Amelia had been conceived with a man Kate had never thought much of as a person, and so she’d protected Amelia from knowing him. The sex had been angry and rough, too. It had been the opposite of love that Amelia had been conceived out of. And it had been a noble thing she had done, protecting her daughter from knowing that, from knowing a father who wasn’t a fraction of the person she’d grow up to be.

Kate had slept with Daniel in the first place only in a misguided attempt to smother the guilt she’d felt for the one-night stand she’d had with Jeremy, whom she’d slept with . . . why? All these years later, she still didn’t even really know. To get over losing Seth? Because she was lonely? Because she’d been swept up by Jeremy’s charm? Because he’d made her feel special for a couple of hours? Certainly she hadn’t been thinking clearly, as evidenced by the fact that—on top of all her other careless decisions—she’d been less than religious about using her diaphragm during that whole period. She’d taken other precautions, sure, ones any seventh grader half paying attention in health class would have known were far from foolproof.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Kate,” Jeremy said. “But I swear I was trying to help Amelia. You have to believe that. I thought that I could be her friend, even if she couldn’t ever know that I was her dad. Now I wish I’d just told her.”

“No,” Kate said, backing away from Jeremy. She kept backing up until she’d banged against the wall behind her. “Stop it. I won’t. You need to—” She shook her head. “I have to go.”

Kate looked right, then left. Where had the front door of the apartment gone? It was as if she’d been sunk into some inescapable labyrinth. All these years, Kate had been so sure about who Amelia’s father was and why she’d lied about him. She’d been protecting Amelia. But now it felt like the only person her lies had sheltered was Jeremy. And, of course, herself.

“Kate, we have to talk about this.”

“No, we don’t. We never do.” Kate said. “I have to— I can’t be here.”

“Daniel knows about us, Kate,” Jeremy said. “He called earlier from the airport to tell me he was on his way to Scotland and to brag about tipping off
insidethelaw
. He was so drunk that I could barely make out what he was saying, but I did get that someone had sent him an e-mail about us. It was a couple of months ago, I think he said. Your guess is as good as mine who that was. Apparently, my giving you Associated Mutual Bank—which was already your case, of course—finally sent Daniel over the edge and made him go public. Personally, I think the fact that he just accepted a Meyer, Jenkins senior partnership didn’t hurt either.” Jeremy shook his head in disgust. “Daniel also told me about you and him, Kate. I had no idea. And I have to say, I kind of felt like an ass.”

Jeremy actually had the nerve to look wounded.

“I’m glad,” Kate said quietly. Then she threw herself forward, praying she was moving in the direction of the front door. “It’s about time you felt like an ass about something.”

“Wait, Kate,” Jeremy called after her. “We have to figure out what we’re going to do. And there’s something else you need to know. It’s about Amelia.”

“I don’t want to know anything else,” Kate said, picking up speed down the hall, her heart thumping in her chest, tears in her eyes. “Just leave me alone.”

“Kate!” Jeremy called one last time as she dove out the door. “We still need to talk! There’s something else I have to tell you. It’s important. It’s about another girl at Grace Hall!”

Amelia

OCTOBER 24, 1:47 PM

AMELIA

where r u? pls. don’t tell me u bailed.

BEN

sorry. I suck. but I’m not going to be able to make it.

AMELIA

seriously?

BEN

my dad is all bent out of shape. if I go he’ll kill me. but don’t hate me, okay. cause I love you.

AMELIA

it’s okay. I understand. this isn’t your problem. love u too.

BEN

I feel like a douche. promise me you’ll be okay.

AMELIA

I promise. I’ll be fine

BEN

don’t let those crazies beat you down. you’re too awesome. besides, you always have me.

AMELIA

xoxo

OCTOBER 24, 1:49 PM

SYLVIA

where are you?

AMELIA

Woodhouse’s office

SYLVIA

why?

AMELIA

cheating

SYLVIA

who cheated?

AMELIA

me supposedly

SYLVIA

WTF?! OK I’ve had enough of this crap. sit tight. I’m coming to get you.

Amelia

OCTOBER 24

I jumped and shoved my phone back into my bag when Woodhouse opened his office door.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,” he said as he came around his desk. He was carrying a folder, tapping the edge of it against his open palm like it was a ruler he planned on slapping my knuckles with. Instead, he tossed the folder onto the center of his clean, empty desk. He sat down then and crossed his arms. He looked seriously mad. I’d never seen him like that before. “So, Amelia.”

“So,” I said back.

“Liv and I both think there must be some logical, perhaps even excusable, explanation for the plagiarism in your paper,” he said, using a just-between-us-friends kind of tone that was beyond annoying. Because if we were actually friends, I wouldn’t have been down there in the first place. “And I think that explanation has something to do with the Magpies. All I need you to do is tell me the truth, Amelia. Then we can sort this out, together.”

“Right,” I said. “Sounds totally easy.”

Woodhouse made a concerned, kind of disappointed face, bringing an index finger up to his lips and staring at me for a long time.

“Amelia, I’m not saying this is easy. Standing up for yourself never is. But I can see to it that you are protected. You have my word. But it starts with you, Amelia. You need to tell me what happened.”

“I didn’t cheat on my paper,” I said. “That’s all I know.”

“Your paper was submitted through the e-mail system.” Mr. Woodhouse’s face got all wrinkly as he rubbed his forehead. “Liv ran that paper through the plagiarism program herself.”

Of course, that left out Bethany and the fact that
she
was the one who opened the e-mails first and then did whatever the hell she wanted with them, including switching the papers attached to them. But it wasn’t like I could tell Woodhouse that to get the ball rolling. That would definitely count as telling on the Maggies. And Sylvia would pay for it.

I shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you then,” I said. I sounded all flip, but I couldn’t help it. This was all so unfair and totally ridiculous. “I didn’t cheat, and that’s not my paper. I don’t have anything else to say. So can I go?”

“No, Amelia, you cannot go,” Woodhouse said. “This isn’t Vaseline on a doorknob. Plagiarism isn’t the kind of thing we can just overlook, no matter how great an asset you are to the Grace Hall community. It’s a violation of the school’s code of conduct, Amelia. We could lose our accreditation if it was made public that we didn’t take appropriate action. Not to mention the potential reaction of the other students. There have already been numerous complaints this year about the disciplinary allowances made for academic achievers.”

“Academic achievers?” I repeated. “That sounds like a disease.”

“This isn’t a joke, Amelia!” Woodhouse yelled, scaring the crap out of me. His face was all reddish now, too. I’d never seen him like that. “We might have to expel you if you can’t explain what happened.
That
is how serious this is. Come on, let me help you!”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I kept them closed, too, as if the secret to the way out might be written on the insides of my lids.

“I can’t.”

Woodhouse took a deep, loud breath.

“I can give you a few days to think about it, Amelia. But in the meantime, I have no choice but to suspend you, effective immediately. That’s nonnegotiable,” Woodhouse said. “Your mother is already on her way to get you.”

“Seriously? You called my mom at
work
to come down
here
?
Now?
” All I could think about was that suit she’d been wearing. She’d definitely be missing something important if she had to come to get me. It made me feel bad, and really, really mad. “Can’t you just suspend me at the end of the day?”

“No, Amelia, we can’t,” Woodhouse said. “And you should keep in mind, while you’re thinking about what you want to do, that an academic suspension is not the kind of thing Ivy League colleges will overlook. Not even if it was in your sophomore year.” Woodhouse seemed even more upset about this than I was. “Your fellowship might even be revoked. I don’t know.”

“Great,” I said, feeling like I was going to cry all of a sudden. First Zadie had taken Dylan; now she was going to take my future, too.

“Amelia, I’m going to give you one last chance. Do you have
anything
you want to say?”

“
That’s
not my paper!”
I screamed as loud as I could, my stupid voice cracking.

Woodhouse didn’t even flinch. Instead, he made a big show of looking down at my name on the front page.

“Your name is on it, Amelia,” he said quietly. “Without you telling me something more, that’s all I have to go on.”

I hated the way he was looking at me, as if I was this huge disappointment. A fraud. A liar. Like there was something
I
should be ashamed of. But I wasn’t going to be ashamed. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I wasn’t going to feel bad because I didn’t want to be the school whistle-blower or whatever. Anyway, the real reason I couldn’t do that was Sylvia. Turning in the Maggies would have felt really awesome until they went after her. With Sylvia, they would have so much ammunition to publicly humiliate her with, too. As tough as Sylvia liked to pretend she was, she’d never survive that. After what had happened with her last year, I sometimes worried whether she’d survive, period.

I wouldn’t turn the Maggies in and risk their doing that to her. I couldn’t. It wasn’t my job anyway. If the school wanted to get rid of the Maggies, they could. As far as I could tell, Woodhouse already knew who a lot of them were. What did he need me for? I stared hard at him, willing my eyes to dig into his face, but all they kept doing was sprouting tears.

This bad feeling that had swelled up in my stomach wasn’t helping either. Even as I tried to squash it down, there it was, still nibbling at the bottom of my gut. The truth, that’s what it was. Because it wasn’t just Sylvia who I was protecting. It was Dylan, too. Deep down, maybe I even knew that Woodhouse would make sure that nothing happened to Sylvia if I turned the Maggies in. But I couldn’t be so sure what would become of Dylan.

Was I seriously willing to get expelled for her, though? Like Sylvia kept reminding me, Dylan wasn’t acting the way someone did when she cared about you. How could I pretend that wasn’t true? Because she was a girl? Because I loved her?

Love
. Suddenly the word sounded weird. Like I was pronouncing it wrong.

No, I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to be
that
pathetic. I was a good student. I’d worked hard my whole life. I wasn’t going to give all of that up for the chance to get back together with Dylan.

“I think I know what happened,” I said finally, staring down at my hands. My voice was small.

I could do this. I could.

But there was a knock at the door before I could say anything more.

“Come in,” Woodhouse called, sounding stressed. He knew I’d been close to coming clean.

Mrs. Pearl popped her head in. “I’m sorry to bother you Mr. Woodhouse,” she said, kissing his butt so much it made my mouth hurt. “But there’s an issue in the cafeteria that I’m afraid you need to attend to.”

“Can’t you handle it?” He pointed at me. He was worried that I’d change my mind, and it was a fair thing to worry about. I was on board, but barely. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of a meeting with a student?”

“I wouldn’t have interrupted if it wasn’t absolutely essential,” Mrs. Pearl said testily. “A student saw a rat, a large one. And now it apparently can’t be located.”

“What do you want me to do? Hunt for it? Delia, this is a really important conversation I’m having.” I’d never seen anyone talk to Mrs. Pearl like that. As if she was a pest. It was kind of great. “Why don’t you call maintenance?”

“Unfortunately, the student is refusing to move until she speaks with you, personally,” Mrs. Pearl said, even saltier. “I assure you, we’ve tried everything. Honestly, for some reason she’s quite hysterical about talking to you, specifically.”

Woodhouse closed his eyes.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Amelia, I’ll be right back. You’re doing the right thing. Just sit tight.”

As soon as the door closed behind them, my phone alerted with a text. I was hoping it was Ben saying he was going to make it out to Brooklyn after all. I was still fantasizing about ducking out and seeing him. As I pulled out my phone, I looked around for how I’d sneak out. But the text was from Sylvia, not Ben.

Make a run for it. I’ll cover you.