I'm here, Emma?" She said nothing, but gathered an old black stuffed dog
to her chest. "I need to talk to you about Darren."
"Dad says he's an angel now, in heaven."
"I'm sure he is."
"It's not fair that he went away. He didn't even say goodbye."
"He couldn't."
She knew that because she knew, deep in her heart, what you had to do to
become an angel. "Dad said that God wanted him, but I think it was a
mistake and God should send him back."
Lou brushed a hand over her hair, moved as much by her stubborn logic as
he had been by the mother's grief. "It was a mistake, Emma, a terrible
one, but God can't send him back."
Her lip poked out, but it was more defiance than a pout. "God can do
anything He wants."
Lou stepped uneasily onto shaky ground. "Not always. Sometimes men do
things and God doesn't fix it. We have to. I think you might be able
to help me find out how this mistake happened. Will you tell me about
that night, the night you fell down the steps?"
She shifted her eyes to Charlie and plucked at his fur. "I broke my
arm."
"I know. I'm sorry. I have a little boy. He's older than you, almost
eleven. He broke his arm trying to roller-skate on the roof."
Impressed, she looked up again, eyes wide. "Really?"
"Yes. He broke his nose, too. He skated right off the roof and landed
in the azalea bushes."
"What's his name?"
"Michael."
Emma wanted to meet him and ask him what it had felt like to fly off a
rooftop. It sounded very brave. Like something Darren would have
wanted to try. Then she began to pluck at Charlie's fur again. "Darren
would have been three in February."
"I know." He took her hand. After a moment she curled her fingers
around his.
"I loved him best of all," she said simply. "Is he dead?"
"Yes, Emma."
"And he can't come back, even though it was a mistake?"
"No. I'm very sorry."
She had to ask him, ask him what she hadn't dared ask her father. Her
father would cry, and might not tell her the truth. This man with his
pale eyes and quiet voice wouldn't cry.
"Is it my fault?" Her eyes were desperate as they shifted up to his.
"Why would you think so?"
"I ran away. I didn't take care of him. I promised I always would, but
I didn't."
"What did you run away from?"
"Snakes," she said without hesitation, remembering only the nightmare.
"There were snakes and things with big teeth."
"Where?"
"Around the bed. They hide in the dark and like to eat bad girls."
"I see." He took out his notepad. "Who told you that?"