Chapter Seventeen: The Woman at the Hardware Store
Vivian confronted me again outside the hardware store two days later.
She stood beside a cart filled with paint thinner and replacement porch lights.
I had come to buy a new deadbolt after finding my back gate open that morning.
She watched me examine the locks before speaking.
She said the town was turning an old tragedy into a spectacle.
I asked whether she had come to apologize for the damage to my house.
She said she had already paid for the repairs.
I told her payment did not erase the threats.
Vivian looked toward the cashier and lowered her voice.
She said the new photograph would destroy people who had never intended to hurt anyone.
I asked how she knew about it.
She hesitated.
Then she said Celia had called her.
I had not told Vivian about the photograph, and neither had Owen.
Celia had promised to keep our meeting private.
For a moment I wondered whether Celia had been sent to mislead us.
Vivian seemed to read the thought on my face.
She said Celia was afraid of what would happen to Tomas if his name became public.
I asked Vivian whether she had ordered the chain installed.
She gripped the cart handle.
She said she had approved closing the loading entrance but had not chosen the method.
I asked whether she had seen the chain before the carnival opened.
She said she had walked through the corridor that afternoon.
I waited.
She finally admitted that the chain had already been in place.
I asked why she had not removed it.
She said she believed the gate was for staff only.
I told her the painted arrow said otherwise.
She looked away.
The cashier called for assistance with a delivery, and a young employee pushed a stack of boxes between us.
Vivian stepped back as though the interruption had broken a spell.
She told me that I did not understand what it was like to make a decision that could never be undone.
I said I understood what it was like to live with somebody else’s decision.
She left the cart in the aisle and walked out.
I bought the deadbolt and kept the receipt.
That evening Celia called to say Tomas had agreed to speak with me.
He would not return to Westbridge.
He would meet me at a diner halfway between our towns, and he wanted no cameras or reporters.
I promised I would come alone.
Then I called Owen and explained that I would need him to stay home.
He sounded disappointed, but he did not argue.
Before hanging up, he warned me that Tomas might tell a story none of us wanted to hear.
