Public Secrets

it’s crazy. I’m almost forty-two.”
“A baby,” Emma repeated.
“Not to replace Darren,” Bev said quickly. “Nothing could. And it isn’t that we don’t love you as much as it’s possible to love a daughter, but—”
“A baby.” With a laugh, Emma dragged Bev up and hugged her. “Oh, I’m so glad. I’m so happy for you. For me. For all of us. When?”
“Near the end of summer.” She pulled back to study Emma’s face. What she saw had tears rushing to her eyes. “We were afraid you might be upset.”
“Upset?” Emma brushed the back of her hand over her own cheeks. “Why would I be upset?”
“It brings back memories. Brian and I have had to deal with ours. I didn’t think I would want another child, but, Emma, I want this one so badly. I want it so much, for me, for Bri, but—I know how much you loved Darren.”
“We all loved him.” As she had more than twenty years ago, she laid a hand on Bev’s stomach. “I already love this one. He’s going to be beautiful, and strong, and safe.”

As she finished speaking, the lights went out. The instant fear clicked in, making her grope for Bev’s hand.
“It’s all right,” Bev said. ’They’ll have it fixed in a minute. I’m right here.”
“I’m okay.” She was going to beat this too, she told herself. This hideous, hateful fear of the dark. “Maybe it’s just the backstage lights. I’ll go see what’s going on.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No.” She took a step toward the door. She could barely see the outline of it. Only a shadow in the dark. A rustling noise had her jolting. The baby was stirring, she told herself as her mouth went dry. There were no monsters, and she wasn’t afraid of the dark.
She found the knob, but instead of relief, she was struck by a wild, unreasonable fear. She could see herself opening it. Opening it and looking in. The baby was crying. Dizzy, she tried to understand if it was the baby behind her, or the one in her mind.
Instinctively she snatched her hand away. She wasn’t to open it. She didn’t want to see. Inside her head the echo of her heart pounded like a musical rhythm. An old song—one she couldn’t forget.
Not a dream, Emma reminded herself. She was wide awake. And she had waited most of her life to see what was behind the door.
With rigid fingers, she opened the door, in reality and in her mind. And she knew.
“Oh my God.”
“Emma.” Bev, soothing the baby on her shoulder, reached out. “What is it?”
“It was Pete.”
“What? Is Pete in the hall?”
“He was in Darren’s room.”
Bev’s fingers closed over Emma’s arm. “What are you saying?”
“He was in Darren’s room that night. When I opened the door, he turned and looked at me. Someone else was holding Darren, making him cry. I didn’t know him. Pete smiled at me, but he was angry. I ran away. The baby was crying.”
“It’s Samuel,” Bev murmured. “It’s not Darren, Emma. Come sit down.”

“It was Pete.” On a moan, she pressed her hands to her face. “I saw him.”
“I’d hoped you wouldn’t remember.”
When she lowered her hands she saw him standing in the doorway. He held a flashlight in. One hand. And in the other a gun.
Clutching the baby, Bev stared at the shadow of the man in the doorway. “I don’t understand this. What’s going on?”
“Emma’s overwrought.” Pete spoke quietly, his eyes on Emma’s. “You’d better come with me.”
Not again, Emma told herself. It wouldn’t happen again. Before she could think, she hurled herself at him. The flashlight popped out of his hand, sending the beam in crazy arches over the walls and ceiling.
“Run!” She screamed to Bev as she struggled to get up and away. “Take the baby and run. Get someone. He’ll kill him.” She shouted, kicking out as Pete grabbed for her. “Don’t let him kill another baby. Get Da.”
With the baby wailing, Bev fled toward the confusion onstage.
“It’s too late,” Emma said when Pete hauled her to her feet. “They’ll catch you. They’ll be here any second.”
Already spotlights were glowing onstage. Shouts and running feet closed in. Desperate, he dragged her onward. Emma stopped struggling when she felt the barrel of the gun under her jaw.
“They know it’s you.”
“She didn’t see me,” he muttered. “It was dark. She can’t be sure.” He had to believe that—had to. Or it was all over.
“She knows.” Emma winced when he dragged her up a flight of stairs. “Everyone knows