The Advocate's Daughter

A chill fell over him. Just a few days ago he’d heard “Rock of Ages” on the radio and it had thrust him back to that night. In fact, Japan had crossed his mind more than once in recent days—the familiar pit in his stomach, the faintest shortness of breath. It had been so long since he’d thought about it, dwelled on it, that he sometimes wondered if it was all a bad dream. An old movie he’d seen that he had latched on to in his memories as real. But it was real. All too real. The memories had resurfaced with such vigor, he assumed, because of all the attention he was getting about the possible Supreme Court nomination. Paranoia.

He realized that he was kneading the palm of his left hand with his thumb, feeling the ridges of the scar. The three of them had each cut into their palms to seal their blood oath. They’d used the same blade that killed the storekeeper and swore to never speak a word of that night for the rest of their lives. Sean reflected on the melodrama of it (to say nothing of the unsanitariness of using the same blade). Then the questions that had long haunted him fired through his brain: Why did Kenny do it? And why hadn’t Sean seen it coming? He could’ve stopped him. And why, when Sean had immediately broken his oath and gone to his father for help, had his dad chosen to bury it all?

Sean pulled out the disc from the Def Leppard sleeve and blew on the black vinyl. He debated whether to look inside the sleeve to see if the item was still there. He told himself not to. But he slid his hand inside the cardboard and felt for it. The paper touched his fingertips, and he took in a deep breath before sliding it out. He flattened the newspaper clipping on the top of the cardboard box. It was wrinkled and yellowed and written in a language he couldn’t read. It was incredibly stupid to keep it, but he just could never quite part with it. The newspaper photo of the Japanese storekeeper stared up at him. He heard his father’s voice. You will tell no one. Ever. This is about more than just you, Sean. Another voice pulled him out of it.

“Whatcha doin’?” Jack’s head popped up from the hole in the floor, eyes wide, mouth agape. The gopher from Caddy Shack. An attic is a magical place for a seven-year-old.

Sean fumbled to shove the newspaper clipping back into the album sleeve.

“Hey, buddy,” Sean said. “Be careful on the ladder there.”

“Mom said it’s time to get ready for dinner.”

“Okay, I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Can I come in? I’ll be careful. I’ll—”

“Sorry, pal. Too dangerous. Lots of nails sticking out and it’s dark up here.”

“Aw, man. That’s what Abby said too.” Jack frowned.

“Abby was up here?”

“Yep.”

“When was that?”

“The other day.”

“What was she doing?”

“I dunno. She was looking at that box there.” Jack pointed to the JAPAN box. “She was digging through the same stuff you’re looking at.”





CHAPTER 7

At ten-thirty, Sean walked up the stairs and found Emily in the bathroom. She was leaning over the sink washing her face. Her nightgown didn’t quite reach the back of her thighs. Even after all these years, the sight of the curve of her bottom caused Sean to stir.

“I tried calling her again,” Sean said. He unbuttoned his shirt. “It went straight to voice mail.” Abby had not shown up at the restaurant for dinner either.

“I’m worried about her,” Emily said.

“She’s probably just on a studying binge,” Sean said.

Emily shook her head as she brushed her teeth. “No,” she gurgled, toothpaste foaming at the corners of her mouth. She dabbed her lips with a towel. “She knew this was a celebration dinner. And she never ignores my text messages. It’s not like her, Sean.”

“Maybe that’s what she was calling me about yesterday, to say she couldn’t make it.”

“I really wish you would have taken her call.”

“It’s not like I was dodging her. I just missed the call. Kind of like you do nine out of ten times when I call your cell.”

“Aren’t you worried?” Emily said, ignoring the jab.

Sean let out a low breath. “What do you want me to do? I can drive to her apartment. But you remember what happened last time.”

“You’ll never let that go.”

“It was embarrassing for her, and for me. If she’s got a boy there again, I just—”

“Fine, I’ll go,” Emily said. She marched to the bedroom. By the time Sean caught up with her, Emily had already pulled open a dresser drawer and thrown a pair of jeans on the bed.

“I’m not letting you drive to Capitol Hill at this hour,” he said. “I’ll go.”

Emily continued getting dressed.

Sean said, “You have a long day tomorrow. We’ve still got to go through Ryan’s Facebook messages, and you’ve got a shitty meeting ahead with Ryan and Dr. Julie. You get some sleep and I’ll go check on her.”

“I won’t be sleeping until I know where she is, so it doesn’t matter if—”

“Em, please. I don’t mind going. I could actually use the fresh air. Can you try to call her again?”

He saw signs of retreat in Emily’s face, so he started changing from his dress shirt and suit pants into a T-shirt and jeans.

Emily frowned as she took the iPhone from her ear. “Still no answer,” she said. “Maybe I should call Malik?”

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