Chapter 6: A Door Left Ajar

The next day, I packed some daily necessities and bedding and knocked on Alex’s door across the hall.

My arms were loaded down—an extra pillow, a set of clean towels, a box of chamomile tea Ben used to send her for her birthday. My heart thudded in my chest as I balanced everything, praying nothing would spill out onto the hallway carpet.

When he saw me, his eyes trembled.

He was halfway through a bowl of cereal, milk dribbling down his chin. He wiped it away, trying to play it cool, but his hands fumbled with the doorknob.

He nervously fixed his hair and clothes.

His fingers went straight to his hair, smoothing out the cowlick at his crown. He tugged at his hoodie, straightening it, the color clashing slightly with his shorts.

I gently explained that I needed his help and asked if he was available and could give me a ride.

My voice was soft, almost apologetic. "Alex, would you mind giving us a ride to the hotel by the station? I need to bring some things to Carol." I tried to smile, to make it sound like a small favor.

"Of course."

"I’m always available."

He looked at me as he spoke.

He held my gaze a little too long, his cheeks flushing. There was something in his eyes—worry, maybe, or just the awkward earnestness of someone who wants to help but doesn’t quite know how.

Alex drove me and Maddie to the small hotel by the train station.

The ride was quiet. Maddie kicked her legs in the backseat, humming to herself. I stared out the window, watching the city blur by, wondering what I would say to Carol.

The hotel was old and dim, with a sign at the door: "Rooms, $30 a night."

The neon sign flickered, casting a sickly glow over the parking lot. The lobby smelled faintly of stale coffee and cleaning supplies. Maddie wrinkled her nose as we walked in.

"Mom, is grandma staying here? It’s so shabby. Let’s let grandma stay at our house, okay?"

Her voice was small, hopeful. I could see the confusion in her eyes, the hurt at not understanding why families sometimes lived apart.

I sighed.

"Grandma’s a bit stubborn. She wouldn’t agree."

I tried to keep my tone light, but Maddie’s frown deepened. She didn’t know about the things adults carried—pride, pain, old wounds that refused to heal.

Alex came over carrying the bags.

He stacked them carefully, balancing the bedding on top. His glasses slid down his nose, and he shoved them back with the heel of his hand.

"Whoa, you got a whole Target run here. Let me help you haul it up."

He spoke quietly, avoiding my eyes. He lingered by the elevator, as if waiting for me to give him permission to stay by my side a little longer.

I hesitated, "It’s alright, I don’t want to trouble you. Just wait for us here."

I tried to spare him the awkwardness of family drama, but he just shook his head, determined.

Alex looked a bit worried and said gently:

"The old lady said that to you the other day. If you’re alone with her, you might have a conflict. I’ll be there to keep an eye on things, mostly so Maddie doesn’t get scared."

His concern was genuine. I felt a strange surge of gratitude for his awkward, quiet presence.

I smiled wryly and nodded, "Thank you for your trouble."

He nodded back, his cheeks coloring. I realized how rare it was, to have someone simply show up when you needed them.

When I saw Carol again,

she was sitting in the simple room fiddling with her phone.

She squinted at the cracked screen, jabbing at the buttons with the determined precision of someone used to old technology. The room was small, furnished with mismatched thrift store pieces, the wallpaper yellowed with age. A faded Cleveland Cavaliers mug sat on the nightstand, next to a stack of crossword puzzle books.

When she saw me at the door, she paused and stood up, her gaze calm.

She slid the phone into her pocket, shoulders straightening as if bracing herself for battle.

I took a deep breath and spoke slowly.

"Mom, I know you definitely don’t want to live with us, so I brought you some things. No matter what misunderstanding you have about me, I hope, for Ben and Maddie’s sake, you won’t refuse this small gesture."

My voice trembled, but I held her gaze, willing her to see that I was trying—maybe not perfectly, but as best I could.

I looked back at Alex.

He hovered in the doorway, offering a small, awkward smile before slipping inside with the bags.

He came in with the things, set them down, and quietly stepped out into the hallway.

He closed the door softly behind him, leaving us alone in the cramped space. The air felt heavy, thick with everything unsaid.

Carol stood without saying a word.

She neither accepted nor refused, just looked at me expressionlessly.

The silence between us stretched, taut as a violin string. I waited for her to speak, but she just watched me, her eyes unreadable.

Maddie timidly stepped forward and spoke softly.

Her small hands twisted in her dress. She looked up at Carol with wide, hopeful eyes, searching for comfort.

"Grandma, Daddy’s gone a long time. If you stay with us, maybe he’ll come back faster."

Her words hung in the air, pure and unguarded. I could see Carol’s expression shift, something softening around the edges.

Carol’s eyes instantly softened. Her rough hand gently stroked Maddie’s head, and her wrinkled eyes turned red.

She knelt, brushing Maddie’s hair away from her face, her hand trembling. Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she blinked them back, unwilling to let them fall.

"Maddie, be good. Grandma has something very important to do, so I can’t go home with you yet."

Her voice was low, almost breaking. The weight of her grief filled the room, pressing down on all of us.

"Grandma, I miss Daddy. Do you miss Daddy too?"

Maddie’s voice was so small, I almost didn’t hear it. Carol’s face crumpled, just for a moment, before she caught herself.

"Yes, Grandma… misses him very much."

She looked calm and composed, but her trembling voice betrayed the emotions she tried so hard to hide.

I turned and whispered to Alex.

He hovered in the hallway, peeking through the cracked door. I motioned him inside, voice low.

He immediately came in and coaxed Maddie to go downstairs first.

He took her hand, kneeling so their eyes met. He promised her ice cream and a trip to the park, anything to draw her away from the heaviness in the room.

The room was left with only me and Carol.

This small hotel was squeezed among rows of tall buildings, with only a little daylight coming through the cracked window.

The radiator clanked, the walls thin enough that I could hear someone arguing two doors down. The city’s noise filtered in, a distant hum that felt worlds away.

The noise outside clashed with the silence inside this narrow space.

"I have reported to the police."

Carol looked at me calmly and suddenly spoke.

I was stunned, sighing softly in the dim hallway.

My shoulders slumped. I stared at my hands, the words echoing in the cramped room, making it feel even smaller.

"The police have already cleared me of suspicion. I had no opportunity, no means, and no motive. Ben’s death has only brought pain and hardship into my life. How could I have hurt him? Mom, I really don’t understand why you’re so convinced I would want my husband dead…"

My voice was hoarse, raw from nights of crying. I searched her face, desperate for even a flicker of understanding.

"So that’s why you came today?"

Carol’s voice was steady. "You’re curious how I, thousands of miles away, knew you were the real one who killed Ben, so you came, right?"

A wave of grief and helplessness rose in my heart.

I felt my throat tighten. I wanted to scream, to demand why she was doing this, but the words stuck fast.

I wanted to say something, but it felt pointless.

"Since you’re so determined to think I’m the one responsible, let the police decide."

I spoke wearily and turned to leave.

Just a few steps down the hallway, Carol’s voice rang out behind me.

Her voice was sharper, cutting through the static in my head.

"Actually, I wasn’t completely sure."

"But you came today, and brought that young man. You want to mislead me into thinking you’re having an affair with him? You want to guide me to have the police investigate in that direction and come up empty…"

"Now, I’m sure you’re the one who killed him."

As her last word fell, the hallway went silent.

The building itself seemed to hold its breath. I turned, staring at Carol as the truth—or her version of it—hung heavy in the air.

I slowly turned around…

In the cramped, dark hallway,

I stared at her in silence.

The tension between us was electric, the old wallpaper pressing in from all sides. Somewhere outside, a siren wailed, distant and lonely, as I wondered if the chasm between us could ever be crossed.