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What Marilyn has been doing is pacing Lydia’s room, tingling with fury.
玛丽琳一直在莉迪亚的房间里踱来踱去，气得浑身刺痛。
It’s obvious what the police think, with all their hinting:
警察的想法很明显，他们一直在暗示:
No evidence of anyone in the boat with her.
没有证据表明船上有人和她在一起。
Would you say Lydia was a lonely girl?
你会说莉迪亚是个孤独的女孩吗?
It’s obvious, too, that James agrees.
很明显，詹姆斯也同意这一点。
But her daughter could not have been so unhappy.
但是她的女儿不可能这么不幸福。
Her Lydia, always smiling, always so eager to please?
她的莉迪亚，总是面带微笑，总是急于取悦于人?
Sure, Mom. I’d love to, Mom.
当然了,妈妈。我很乐意，妈妈。
To say she could have done such a thing to herself—no, she had loved them too much for that.
说她可以这样对待自己——不，她太爱他们了。
Every single night, before she went up to bed, she found Marilyn wherever she was—
每天晚上，在她上床睡觉之前，她总能找到她所在的地方——玛丽琳
in the kitchen, in the study, in the laundry room—and looked her full in the face:
在厨房里，在书房里，在洗衣房里——我直视着她的脸:
I love you, Mom. See you tomorrow.
我爱你，妈妈。明天见。
Even that last night she had said it—tomorrow—and Marilyn had given her a quick squeeze and a little smack on the shoulder and said,
就在昨天晚上，她还说了明天，而玛丽琳迅速地搂了她一下，轻轻拍了拍她的肩膀，说:
“Hurry up now, it’s late.”
“现在快点儿，已经晚了。”
At this thought, Marilyn sinks to the carpet.
一想到这里，玛丽琳就倒在地毯上。
If she had known, she’d have held Lydia a little longer.
如果她知道的话，她会多抱一会儿莉迪亚的。
She would have kissed her.
她会吻她的。
She would have put her arms around her daughter and never let go.
她会用双臂抱住女儿，永不放手。
Lydia’s bookbag lies slouched against her desk, where the police had left it after they’d searched it, and Marilyn pulls it into her lap.
莉迪亚的书包耷拉着靠在她的书桌上，那是警察搜查后留下的，玛丽琳把它拉到她的膝盖上。
It smells of rubber erasers, of pencil shavings, of spearmint gum—precious, schoolgirl smells.
它闻起来有橡皮橡皮的味道，铅笔屑的味道，珍贵的留兰香口香糖的味道，女生的味道。nn
In her embrace, books and binders shift under the canvas like bones under skin.
在她的怀抱里，书和活页夹在帆布下像皮包骨一样移动着。
She cradles the bag, sliding the straps over her shoulders, letting its weight hug her tight.
她抱着包，把背带披在肩上，让包的重量紧紧地抱着她。
Then, in the half-unzipped front pocket, she spots something: a flash of red and white.
然后，在前面半拉开的口袋里，她发现了什么东西:一道红白相间的闪光。
Hidden beneath Lydia’s pencil case and a bundle of index cards, a slit gapes in the lining of the bag.
在莉迪亚的铅笔盒和一叠索引卡的下面，包的衬里裂开了一条缝。
A small tear, small enough to slip by the busy policemen, intended to escape an even sharper eye: a mother’s.
一滴小泪珠，小得足以从忙碌的警察身边滑过，是为了逃避一双更锐利的眼睛:母亲的眼睛。
Marilyn works her hand inside and pulls out an open package of Marlboros.
玛丽琳把手伸进包里，拿出一个打开的万宝路。
And, beneath that, she finds something else: an open box of condoms.
在那下面，她还发现了别的东西:一盒打开的避孕套。
She drops both, as if she has found a snake, and pushes the bookbag out of her lap with a thud.
她像发现了一条蛇一样，把两本书都扔了下去，砰的一声把书包从腿上推开。
They must belong to someone else, she thinks;
她想，它们一定是别人的;
they could not be Lydia’s. Her Lydia did not smoke.
不可能是莉迪亚的。她的莉迪亚不抽烟。
