The woman sat down on the nearby chair. “Corbin, Professor Gardner. Emily Corbin.” She smiled at Cecelia. “I have a little boy almost your age, Cecelia. I see you like horses.” She pointed to a plastic pony lying near one of Cecelia’s books. “And your mom tells me you play soccer.”
Cecelia relaxed her grip on Amanda’s hand. “Yes. Does your boy like books about ponies? Misty of Chincoteague. That’s about ponies. It’s one of my favorite stories.”
“I’ll tell him about it.” The police woman waited for her partner to take a seat near the window. Amanda saw his name on the name tag pinned to his chest pocket: William Park.
“Cecelia. Your mom told us you were waiting for your friend, Marcus, that day you were hurt. Is that right?”
Cecelia nodded.
“Your next-door neighbor … I think her name is Janet. Do you know her?”
The child smiled. “She’s nice. We make popcorn when she comes over.”
Emily Corbin nodded. “Janet said she heard you yelling. Were you trying to warn anyone else about the car—maybe another child?”
Cecelia looked first at her mother and then back at the man sitting at the window before turning to the woman police office whose voice was soft and reassuring. She shook her head. “No. I didn’t see anyone else outside.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to go in the street,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Amanda stroked her back.
“Did something scare you—to make you want to leave your house?” The police officer patted Cecelia’s hand and gave her a tissue.
Cecelia’s tears overwhelmed her and she began to cry harder. “I don’t—I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I don’t like talking about—”
Amanda rose from her seat on the bed. “I think maybe you’ll need to try another time. It upsets her so much, and her ribs are still healing. They hurt when she cries.”
She ushered the police officers down the stairs and out the door before returning to her daughter’s room and holding her close.
That evening, she spoke to Marcus. “It was horrible. She couldn’t get past the second or third question.”
“Were they mean to her?”
“No, no. The woman officer who asked questions even sat down beside her chair. She was very nice, her voice so soothing. And her partner just sat near the window, but Cece got upset when she asked her if something had scared her.”
“Do you want me to come over if they come back?”
“I’ll see. I told them I would call them next week. Maybe after her ribs are more healed.” She sighed. “I hate to see her so upset.” Her voice caught as she imagined her daughter being hit by the car.
“Give her another week. Maybe she’ll feel better after more time has passed.”
“I guess I’ll just have to wait and see if they insist on coming back to talk to her again.”
“Let me know. Maybe I could just happen to come by.”
She looked toward the stairs. “She’s calling me. I have to go.”
“Give her a hug for me.”
But the next visit went no better, even with Marcus standing near the end of the bed and Amanda in position at Cecelia’s side.
“Did your mom say it was okay to go outside when she wasn’t home?” Will Park asked after Cecelia had answered several questions without hesitation.
Cecelia shook her head, her curls bouncing. “No. She said I wasn’t supposed to do that.”
“I was only gone just a few minutes,” Amanda interjected.
He seemed about to ask another question when Cecelia continued, “But I had to get away.” She looked at the tall detective. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Cece said firmly.
She pulled her hand away from Amanda to rub her eyes. “And I didn’t see the car.” Her tears began flowing again and she reached for her mother, clinging to her tightly. “Do I have to talk anymore?”
Will looked at his partner. “I guess we’d better go.”
Marcus showed them out, leaving Amanda to soothe Cecelia. “It’s okay, darling. They don’t need to talk to you anymore. I think you need to take a nap. Sam is coming over later and you will want to be rested for her visit.”
Cecelia slid under the covers and closed her eyes.
While Cecelia slept, Amanda called the detectives and asked them not to come back. She and Marcus sat in the living room.
Marcus rubbed her hands between his own. “I’ve already told the cops what I found out. I told them I think Carl was the one who scared her—and that they should talk to him. They haven’t gotten back to me.”