“You ever wonder who told Easton that Jasper was behind Norah Hart’s death? How it conveniently happened when youand Emerson were beginning to make a life together, and he just sohappenedto find you at the Hart brownstone that day…Didn’t you ever wonderwhyhe showed such animosity to you when, from all accounts, you were once such good friends?”
My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water as I shake my head. “I mean, his confrontation was out of character, sure…”
I furrow my brow, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. “What in the hell would Reese gain from this? From making Emerson into this global superstar? You’re searching for power. For money. She has no need for either. So how do you expect me to?—”
“How about atonement then, Mr. Holloway? Is that a good enough reason for you?”
EMERSON
I make my way back to the table, finding Hayley and Reese chatting animatedly, and despite the anxiety roiling in my gut, I sit opposite them, forcing a smile onto my cheeks.
As they chat about a new Berkin bag that Reese has ordered, I smile and nod at the appropriate times, but I just can’t seem to harness the ability to join in. My mind is filled with a million theories, and none of them are altogether palatable.
Blessedly, the food arrives just then, and I dig into my quiche that suddenly tastes like cardboard. I can’t seem to get a handle on my racing thoughts, but as I raise my eyes to find Reese’s studying me, one thing is certain.
She’s not to be trusted.
At that thought, my eyes rove around the familiar restaurant, doubting my ability to trust anyone anymore, and I’m suddenly feeling more than a little claustrophobic.
“I’m not actually feeling very well. Umm... I think I need to call it a day.”
I begin to push my chair to stand, but Reese reaches out a hand, resting it lightly but firmly upon mine. “I hear congratulations are in order, sweetie.” At my frown, she smiles brightly. “You’ve quit the business. Though I’m sure your mother would be saddened by the thought?—”
I yank my hand away, holding it to my chest with hurt slashed across my features.
“Mom!” Hayley’s indignant cry fills the entire restaurant, and nearby diners glance in our direction, hopeful of witnessing some juicy tidbit of gossip firsthand.
“I think you’ll find that my mother would have placed my happiness aboveallelse, Reese.” Anger rises within me, and I narrow my eyes as I hiss through clenched teeth. “Besides, you never evenknewmy mother. How could you know what she’d have wanted for me?”
Reese doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she shakes her head, her eyes glazing over as she speaks softly. “I remember moving into the brownstone after marrying your father. Norah was everywhere. And I never tried to take her place. I’ve not moved a single photo. I’ve not redecoratedanythingso as to keep her memory alive.”
Her voice drops to a whisper as tears fill her eyes. “Your career was the ultimate homage to a woman taken from this world far too soon.”
I meet Hayley’s eyes across the table, a similar horror in hers as I’m sure is currently residing in my own. Yet before either of us can utter another word, there’s a furor at the front of the restaurant, and we all shift in our seats.
Several men, Ford among them, stride past the hostess podium, oblivious to a sputtering Inga, and make a beeline for our table. A part of me is unsurprised as they march right past me and stand at Reese’s chair, but another part of me—my ingrained desire to see the best in people—prays that this is all just a big mistake.
Tears fill her eyes as she rises to stand, placing her hands at the small of her back without being asked. “I’msosorry, Emerson. You’ll never know how sorry I am.”
My chest tightens agonizingly when she shifts around to Hayley, a tear streaking down her face as she murmurs, “I love you, my beautiful girl.”
Without a word, one of the men, seemingly a plain-clothes police officer, begins to handcuff her. “Reese Hart, you’re under arrest for the vehicular manslaughter of Norah Hart. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…”
His voice drones on as the entire world feels like it’s moving in slow motion. My head is foggy, and I blink painfully slowly, watching the scene unfold before me as though from a distance.
There’s a stillness in Fern that’s almost otherworldly as servers stand watching and patrons stare with open mouths.
Reese’s head is lowered, her eyes fixed on the restaurant floor, and her hands cuffed at the base of her spine as Hayley’s low-keening sobs fill the space. A dull, steady throb radiates from my temples as a flash of pain slices through my chest, knocking the air from my lungs.
As I inhale almost desperately, I can feel Ford walking around the table, standing at the back of my chair to place his palm atop my shoulder while the officers begin to remove Reese from Fern. She takes several jolted steps, then stops suddenly, twisting about to find my eyes.
“It was a dreadful accident. I—I was driving home from a double shift. I was tired… I didn’t see her…” she trails off on a desperate sob that sends a fresh wave of pain right through me. “I didn’t see her.”
As I brush curly strands back from my sister’s tear-stained cheeks, a new barrage of tears rises in my own throat, but I swallow them down, straining to hear Ford’s low exchange with Vaughn in the galley kitchen, to no avail.
When they step into the living room, I spear Ford with what I know are bloodshot eyes and whisper so as not to wake my sister. “Whatever he’s told you, I deserve to know, too.”
Ford frowns as he passes me a mug of hot, sweet tea, which I accept with a nod. Then Vaughn sits on the coffee table opposite me, facing me with a no-nonsense attitude that I am beyond grateful for.
