thin walls and her nosy neighbors, who would be listening to their every word. âIs that what weâve been talking about?â she said in a heated whisper. âDinner in Burger Ranch! Thatâs not the point, Shlomie.â
He collapsed heavily into a chair, frightened by this sudden transformation of his kind, gentle, adoring Dani.⦠He was at a loss. He covered his eyes with his hands. âWhat is it you want?â
âI want us to have a life. Is that so hard to understand? Free money is the least free thing in the world. It comes with all kinds of strings attached. You have no idea what my family can be like. I donât want them to rule our lives.â
âSo, you want to move to that place in the desert and grow figs?â he mocked.
Her face sagged, the anger draining, leaving a pale, exhausted fury in its wake. âI donât want to be dependent on anyone ever again, whatever it takes. I want to teach our childrenâthe children we are bringing into the worldâthe value of hard work and achievement.â
âBut a farmerâ¦â He gestured helplessly.
âItâs not like it used to be, Shlomie. Itâs all computerized now, the watering, the fertilizer. Very high tech. Itâs a real opportunity for us to learn a profitable business.â She paused, taking a deep breath. âWe need to work hard, to learn new skills, to contribute, especially now that we have debts to repay. What do you say, Shlomie?â
He smiled and took her hand in his, almost convinced. Besides, it felt so much easier just to give in. âPlease God, He will bless us and weâll succeed.â
And so yet another chapter in their marriage began, but not the last, which was as yet still inconceivable.
Â
7
Bina Tzedek stood outside the door of the interrogation room with Morris and another senior detective, who between them had more than sixty years of experience in interviewing suspects.
âIâm surprised you think you need me along,â she said.
âYouâre a woman, a mother,â Morris explained.
âThat person is not a mother. No motherâanimal or humanâbehaves the way she has. Sheâs a monster.â
âNo, sheâs not,â Morris answered, shaking his head slowly. âSheâs young. She has no record of any kind. There is a secret buried here. Something we need to dig out.â
âHow many times has she been interrogated? Sheâs worse than the most hardened crime lord. She wonât budge. Iâm not a miracle worker.â
âJust try,â the other detective encouraged her.
Daniella sat in front of the desk, looking small and incredibly childlike, dressed in the same outfit she had worn in the hospital, but wrinkled now and stained with perspiration and spots the color of tea.
âLetâs stop the nonsense, shall we, Daniella?â Morris began.
âRebbetzin Goodman,â she interrupted him wearily, her hubris gone, clinging to some shred of dignity.
âWhy donât you tell us the truth? We are going to get it out of you, one way or the other, Daniella,â Morris continued briskly, ignoring her request. He was done playing games.
âIâve told you everything about my ex-husband!â she insisted, tears in her eyes.
âWe know, we know, you told us. How he beat you and abused you. How he abused the childrenâ¦,â the other detective chimed in, his tone skeptical, almost mocking.
âSo what do you want from me?â
Bina put a restraining hand on Morris, slipping forward and pulling up a chair. She smiled, reaching out her hand across the desk.
âHi, Rebbetzin Goodman. My name is Bina. I want you to know that I talked to your ex-husband, Shlomie. He denies all you say, and I believe him. He really doesnât seem like the type at all.â
Daniella ignored the proffered hand but looked up, suddenly wary, her eyes darting to and fro like
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