Perfect Match Read Online Free Page B

Rachel?”
    “I'm in Mrs. Montgomery's class.”
    “Do you have rules there?”
    “Yes. Don't hit and raise your hand to talk and don't climb up the slide.”
    “What happens if you don't follow the rules in school?”
    “My teacher gets mad.”
    “Do you understand the difference between telling the truth and telling a lie ?”
    “The truth is when you tell what happened, and a lie is when you make some thing up.”
    “That's right. And the rule in court, where we are right now, is that you h ave to tell the truth when we ask you questions. You can't make anything up . Do you understand?”
    “Yes.”
    “If you lie to your mom, what happens?”
    “She gets mad at me.”
    “Can you promise that everything you say today is going to be the truth?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    I breathe deeply. First hurdle, cleared. “Rachel, the man over there with th e silver hair, his name is Mr. Carrington. He's got some questions for you t oo. Do you think you can talk to him?”
    “Okay,” Rachel says, but she's getting nervous now. This was the part I couldn 't tell her about; the part where I didn't have all the answers. Fisher stands up, oozing security. “Hi there, Rachel.” She narrows her eyes. I love this kid. “Hi.”
    “What's your bear's name?”
    “She's a hippo.” Rachel says this with the disdain that only a child can pull off, when an adult stares right at the bucket on her head and cannot see that it is a space helmet.
    “Do you know who's sitting with me at that table over there? ”
    “My daddy.”
    “Have you seen your daddy lately?”
    “No.”
    “But you remember when you and your daddy and your mommy all lived togethe r in the same house?” Fisher's hands are in his pockets. His voice is as s oft as flannel.
    “Uh-huh.”
    “Did your mommy and daddy fight a lot in the brown house?”
    “Yes.”
    “And after that, your daddy moved out?”
    Rachel nods, then remembers what I've told her about having to say your a nswer out loud. “Yes,” she murmurs.
    “After your daddy moved out, then you told somebody that something happen ed to you . . . something about your daddy, right?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “You told somebody that Daddy touched your pee-pee?”
    “Yes.”
    “Who did you tell?”
    “Mommy.”
    “What did Mommy do when you told her?”
    “She cried.”
    “Do you remember how old you were when Daddy touched your pee-pee?” Rachel chews on her lip. “It was back when I was a baby.”
    “Were you going to school, then?”
    “I don't know.”
    “Do you remember if it was hot or cold outside?”
    “I, um, I don't know.”
    “Do you remember whether it was dark outside, or light?” Rachel starts rocking on the stool, shaking her head.
    “Was Mommy home?”
    “I don't know,” she whispers, and my heart plummets. This is the point wher e we will lose her.
    “You said you were watching Franklin. Was that on TV, or was it a video?” By now, Rachel isn't even making eye contact with Fisher, or with any of us . “I don't know.”
    “That's all right, Rachel,” Fisher says calmly. “It's hard to remember, somet imes.”
    At the prosecutor's table, I roll my eyes.
    “Rachel, did you talk to your mommy before you came to court this mornin g?”
    At last: Something she knows. Rachel lifts her head and smiles, proud. “Yes !”
    "Is this morning the first time you talked to Mommy about coming to court?
    "
    “Nope.”
    “Have you met Nina before today?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    Fisher smiles. “How many times have you talked to her?”
    “A whole bunch.”
    “A bunch. Did she tell you what to say when you got up into this little box?”
    “Yes.”
    “And did she tell you that you needed to say that Daddy touched you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Did Mommy tell you that you needed to say that Daddy touched you?” Rachel nods, the tips of her braids dancing. “Uh-huh.” I begin to close my file on this case; I already know where Fisher's going ; what he has done. “Rachel,” he says, “did your