Read If the Witness Lied for Free Online

still in her pajamas. Even when Mom was dying and things were awful and promised to get more awful, no matter what, Mom got up, got dressed, fixed her hair, or had somebody else fix it when she was too weak, and put on makeup. “Always be ready to face the world,” said Laura Fountain. “Never stay in bed whimpering.”
    All these months, has Madison essentially stayed in bed whimpering?
    The feel of that parking brake is still in the palm of Madison’s hand. Her fingers curl around it. Her thumb finds the tip.
    What really happened that day in the Jeep?
    Madison is disgusted with herself. Is she going to be one of those pathetic creatures who sees a conspiracy in everything? The police must have tested Dad’s Jeep. They must have towed it to their lab, fingerprinted it, run tests and concluded that it was an accident. They must have questioned the one and only witness and decided she was telling the truth.
    No. Madison cannot barrel into her old house and accuse Cheryl Rand of murder.
    It’s because of Daddy’s birthday, she tells herself. I got all emotional and sentimental on Thursday. I wanted a way out. Well, there isn’t one.
    In the room she shares with Kimmy Emmer, Madison dresses carefully, like her mother, taking into consideration weather, fabric, color, fashion and utility.
    Now she is all dressed up with nowhere to go.
    Maybe she’ll drive over to her house anyway.
    For once, the road home is not blocked by rage or despair. In fact, today looks pretty safe. All four Emmers are at work or at school. Jack is at school. Tris is at day care.
    Cheryl is a woman of few interests: she will be watching TV or she’ll be out shopping.
    “Cheryl” is a soft, round, pleasant name. “Cheryl” sounds like a person who listens to classic rock, irons aprons and plays bunko. In fact, she’s not an aunt at all. She’s a glorified housekeeper.
    In Aunt Cheryl’s case, that word is literal: she wants the house and she wants to keep it. Once she’s in charge, she inches through the rooms, gaining control of a corner here and a bit of wall space there, making it her own. Madison figures that by now Jack is down to a few square feet of old carpet.
    What will Jack think if Madison shoulders her way back into his life? Jack has a great heart. The few times they’ve talked on the phone, he hasn’t sounded angry. He’s never said how hard it is for him. On the other hand, he’s never asked her to come back.
    Reminding herself that she can change her mind, she packs a bag. It’s just pajamas, a toothbrush and a change of clothing; it doesn’t mean anything. She’ll toss it on the floor in the back of her car where nobody can see it. She doesn’t have to act on it.
    Madison leaves the house, setting the alarm and locking up behind herself. Their own house has an alarm system that Daddisabled, because he and Mom and her brother and sister came and went so much, it made everybody crazy. Cheryl likes to set the alarm, not realizing it doesn’t work. Nobody tells her, and she doesn’t seem to notice that she’s never billed for it. Maybe she thinks it comes with the house, like the garbage disposal in the sink.
    Madison gets into her Celica. She loves to drive it, wash it, vacuum it and use the cup holders. It used to be her life’s dream to have her own car. It took a few weeks for her to realize: it’s only a car. The real dream, the one that won’t come true, is to have a family, with a mother and father.
    Madison backs out of the Emmers’ driveway.
    Like the Jeep, the Celica does not have automatic transmission. When Madison first got it, she had trouble finding reverse. But now she’s got the gears down and she loves shifting. The engine’s crescendo is so satisfying.
    Madison takes the turnpike. She loves speed, too. If she gets there fast, she won’t have time to think about this act of intentionally going home to see if she can stand it there and learn to love her family again. Her whole family. The