Evan left after breakfast on Sunday, carrying the remaining cake in a proper container. He kissed Claire at the kitchen door, then came back to do it once more without a reason. She stood smiling after he had gone, aware of how the house held the empty space differently now.
She was editing the ordinary wedding pictures when Beth arrived.
The kitchen door opened without a knock. Claire rose, pleased before she had earned the feeling, and went into the hall. Beth wore the green jacket and had a large canvas bag over one shoulder. Her face was set.
“I saw Vivian this morning,” she said.
“How is she?”
“She wants to leave again.”
“Did he—”
“I'm not doing this here.”
Beth went into the workroom. Claire followed, watching the bag bump against her hip. It contained more than sewing things. A corner of a folded shirt was visible beneath the flap.
“Where are you going?” Claire asked.
“Away for a couple of days.”
“With her?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Beth stopped beside the shelf. “Somewhere I know.”
“I know places too.”
“That's not the point.”
She took down the used camera body. The strap slid against the edge of a sample album, pulling it crooked. Claire caught the book before it fell.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking this.”
“Beth.”
“You can't keep using it to tell us what we're going to do.”
“I don't.”
Beth looked at her. Claire felt the denial go thin.
“I helped you with it,” she said.
“You did. Then you used a picture of Vivian to send Graham into my work.”
“I've apologized.”
“I heard.”
Beth wrapped the strap around the body and began to put it into her bag. Claire took hold of the far end of the strap before she could.
For a moment they stood connected by a strip of worn fabric. Neither pulled. The childishness of the position made Claire feel worse than if Beth had shouted.
“It's equipment,” she said. “I paid for it.”
“You have the other one.”
“You don't get to decide what I use.”
“Exactly.”
Claire let go of the strap.
Beth put the camera into the bag, away from the shirt, with care that made the taking more deliberate. She wasn't pretending she'd borrowed something. Claire had lent her bodies before, let her use the workroom, given her a key to the house.
“Will you bring it back?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“When we're ready to come back.”
Claire looked at the shelf where it had stood. She wanted it returned, though she had left it there all yesterday by choice. Having sight available was different from using it. She had not known how much she relied on the availability until her sister put it in a bag.
“You don't need to take it away,” she said. “I can put it somewhere.”
“You can take it out again.”
“So can you.”
Beth paused. “I don't want to use it.”
“Then why carry it?”
“Because you do.”
They stood without speaking. Claire could hear the computer working behind her. Annette was laughing on the screen beside Sylvia, both faces untroubled by what would happen after the wedding.
“Is Vivian safe getting out?” Claire asked.
“Graham's at work. She can walk through a door.”
“You know when he'll be back?”
“We have time.”
“I could drive.”
“No.”
“Beth, if you need—”
“I need you not to tell him.”
Claire drew back as though the sentence had touched her. “I wouldn't.”
“You told him the hotel.”
“Because I thought—”
Beth's face tired. “I know what you thought. I was there afterward.”
There was nothing to say that could make the taking feel kind. Claire went to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. Beth followed and drank half of it standing. She set it beside the sink where she always did, and Claire was absurdly grateful for the familiar act.
“You've got money?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Your phone charger?”
Beth gave a small, almost-smile. “I'm twenty-five.”
“Chargers don't care.”
“I have it.”
Claire nodded. She wanted to pack something for her, bread, a warm coat, proof that care could be accepted without everything else. The jacket was warm enough. Beth had money. She had brought her own bag.
At the door Claire said, “Call me.”
“I will.”
“When you get there.”
“I will.”
Beth left, and Claire stood in the kitchen until the sound of her steps had gone. She looked at the half-full glass and resisted washing it immediately.
At two Beth called from somewhere noisy. An announcement passed behind her, too muffled to name a station.
“We got out,” she said.
“You're on a train?”
“Waiting for one.”
“To the city?”
“Yes.”
“Where will you be?”
“With someone I know.”
“Who?”
“A woman I used to work with. We have somewhere to sleep. That's what you need to know.”
Claire closed her eyes. “If something happened—”
“You can call me.”
“I can't come if I don't know where.”
“I'll tell you if I need you to come.”
Claire gripped the phone. She could hear the station announcement coming through again, a train her sister could board without her.
“Can I speak to Vivian?”
Beth's voice moved away briefly. When she returned she said, “Not now.”
“Tell her I'm sorry.”
“I will.”
“Tell her I didn't mean—”
“She knows what you meant.”
Claire opened her eyes. “All right.”
They hung up. She called Evan and told him the women had left town for a few days. He asked where. She said she didn't know. He was quiet, then asked whether they had somewhere to stay.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He didn't make the missing address an accusation. Claire almost wanted him to, because then she would not be alone in disliking it.
In the workroom she opened the hotel picture. Then the mirror. Then the house.
None could tell her where Beth was. She had known that before opening them, but still looked for a detail that might be useful, something she'd failed to notice. The images remained themselves. They offered no new room, no journey, no sister waiting to be collected.
Claire closed all three and returned to Annette's wedding.
The photograph of Sylvia dancing was not perfect. Milo's hand was blurred. The aunt's bag showed beneath the table. A waiter passed in the far background with a tray held against his chest. Claire left those things alone and made the small changes the picture actually needed.
At dusk Beth sent a message.
Here. Both fine. Please don't ask again tonight.
Claire typed Thank you and sent it before adding anything else.
Upstairs she found a loose shirt button under the edge of the bed. For a second she wanted it to be Evan's. Then she recognized the one that had been rolling around in her drawer for months. She picked it up, laughed at herself, and put it back in the drawer.