The Dollhouse by Fiona Davis

Author:Fiona Davis
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2016-06-09T17:49:40+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

New York City, 2016

Rose almost didn’t pick up her cell phone when she saw Maddy’s name. She’d gotten to work early and spent the quiet hour, before anyone else arrived, finishing up a book on the history of the Katharine Gibbs School, written by a former teacher. To think that the venerable Mrs. Gibbs began educating women for positions in business, where they were less than welcome, before women even had the right to vote. Fierce.

“Where have you been hiding?” Maddy’s voice was mocking but held an undertone of worry. Rose had left her a message after the migraine broke to tell her that she’d be dog-sitting for a neighbor for a few days, but they’d played phone tag ever since.

“Sorry, I’ve been swamped at work.”

“You doing okay? And any news from Griff?”

“Nothing from Griff. I assume he’s too busy reconstructing his nuclear family.”

Maddy guffawed. “God, he’s such an asshole. I told you not to date guys with old-man names. ‘Griffin Van Doren.’ Jesus.”

In spite of herself, Rose laughed. “I remember. Who could have predicted that just this once you’d be right?”

“Ha-ha, very funny. So when are you coming by? And which neighbor are you dog-sitting for, anyway? I thought everyone in the building was unfriendly.”

That was true. After she and Griff moved in, she’d expected a couple of the neighbors to stop in and say hello. But none did, and even if she ran into one or two waiting for the elevator, they weren’t very enthusiastic. “It’s one of the older ladies who’s lived there forever, since it was a women’s hotel. I’m doing a piece on her and the other women for work.”

“Do you really want to stay in a stranger’s apartment? It’d be fine to bring the dog with you. The kids would love it.”

“I’m not sure how much the dog would love the children, to tell you the truth. He’s a feisty old guy.” As she spoke, the decision to stay in Darby’s apartment, at least for the short term, solidified. It provided privacy, access to the women, and peace and quiet. She’d be out before Darby came back and no one would be the wiser. “Don’t worry, his owner returns in two weeks, at which point I’ll be moaning with self-pity on your couch.”

“Something to look forward to. So how’s your dad?”

Rose pressed her knuckles into her forehead. A couple of the other reporters had arrived and she lowered her voice. “He was moved yesterday. I stopped by; he seems like he’s adapting.”

Indeed, her father hadn’t made a fuss. His eyes had been blank, his jaw working back and forth with nervous energy. The dementia ward had lavender-colored walls and locked doors. A large black carpet had been placed in front of the elevator. One of the nurses explained that most patients in the ward were reluctant to step on it, thinking it was a dark hole, and that kept them from trying to escape.

How awful, to have a pit placed between you and freedom, or the world as you remembered it.

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