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I entered the room slowly. I'm not sure that Emily had any idea that I'd arrived. With a gesture of my head I asked Stella to leave us alone. Emily who was lying on her stomach on the bed did not look up until she heard Stella close the door behind her."I'm sorry, Emily," was all I could think of to say.Emily looked at me with tears streaming down her face but didn't say anything. So I lay down beside her and took her in my arms.Emily still didn't speak; she just placed her head on my shoulder and lay there crying for a long time without saying anything. After some time her sobs grew quiet and she fell asleep. It was not a restful sleep for Emily; she did a lot of mumbling but I couldn't make out what she was saying.It was lunchtime when Stella brought up some coffee for me and tea for Emily. Stella and the girls had looked in several times during the morning. But I signalled them to let Emily sleep; from what Stella had told me she hadn't slept much during the night.Emily was woken. We saw what we wanted to see, not what happened." How do you know?"Her inhale sucked the paper mask against her face, making it wrinkle and crinkle — not her face, the mask. Her exhale ballooned the mask out."Mom always tapes the broadcasts so she can rerun it Sunday afternoon and then wallow through her favorite parts during the week," she admitted wearily. "Yesterday, pretending to be a dutiful daughter, I watched with her during her usual Sunday matinee replay. Trust me, it was nauseating deja vu all over again, and I still wasn't sure what we'd seen. So I sneaked down after Mom and Dad had gone to bed and watched just that part in slow motion until I was sick of it."The girl did not go under the podium," she concluded confidently after another crinkle punctuated breath."But ... but ... but." I was so sure we had him dead to rights I was sputtering like a motorboat."But ... but ... but," she mocked. "While everyone was moving around the girl simply walked offstage and returned.
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