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“Will do. And thanks again.”
He walked out of the conference room and headed to the front door. Eve called his name, stopping his progress.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“I know Aubrey’s hurting, and you’re at a loss on how to make it better for her.”
“Yeah…exactly.”
“I have some news that might help. That thing we talked about.”
“It’s done?”
“Yes. They’re being shipped to you. Should arrive sometime next week.”
Liam grabbed her in a quick hug. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Just make sure she knows that no matter what, we’re here for her. She’s one of us.”
Chapter Forty-One
The blinking cursor mocked her. Her eyes dry, her body numb, Aubrey sat in front of a blank screen and felt just as empty as the file before her. She had nothing left. Writing had always been a panacea, her release and escape. But now she couldn’t write a word. Her entire life felt like a lie. How could she write about truth when she didn’t even know what it was anymore?
Losing Becca hurt more than she could have fathomed. As children, they’d played with each other every day. And even when her parents had moved from California to Connecticut, they’d talked almost daily on the phone. Their holidays and school breaks had been spent in each other’s homes. She had told Becca about her first kiss and had consoled Becca each time a boyfriend had broken her heart.
The last few years, they’d seen less of each other because of their careers, but they had still talked several times a week. And now her sweet, precious cousin was gone and it was all so senseless.
And Uncle Syd.
Unable to stare at the blank screen any longer, Aubrey stood and began to pace. She always did her best thinking this way. However, she doubted a hundred miles of pacing would help her to understand why her uncle had done what he’d done.
The man she’d believed was one of the kindest, most generous people in the world had been a fraud and a murderer. Aunt Jenny’s death had been nothing less than murder. Her uncle might not have initiated it, but he had done nothing to prevent it, nor had he gone to the authorities with what he had known.
Lawrence Medford’s death was on him, too. It didn’t matter that he had diverted Ferante’s attention to keep her safe. A man was dead all the same.
The fact that he had been indirectly responsible for her abduction was another mind-blowing, nauseating truth. She had thought him such a hero for paying her ransom. When he’d made sure there had been no media exposure, she had been in awe of his influence and thought he was so very kind. His protection of her privacy had helped ease the trauma she’d endured.
Instead, he had paid actors to make her and her parents believe his lies.
She had a thousand questions she wanted to ask him and a million tears she wanted to shed. She could do neither. Syd was dead, and her questions might never be answered. The tears had dried up, too. Not since Becca’s death had she been able to cry.
Liam was most likely disgusted with her. While he was so incredibly supportive and brave, she was like a frozen lump on a log. She couldn’t talk to him. No matter how loving and tender he was, the words simply would not come. Since they’d returned home, she had stayed in the guest room. Not because she didn’t want to be with him. It was as if she had nothing left inside her. She was a shell of a person.
The entire OZ team had been amazingly supportive. Liam had told her they were her family now, and while she very much appreciated that sentiment, she still felt alone.
Even her mother had abandoned her, although she couldn’t say she was all that surprised. She and her mother had lost their connection after her father passed away. Tragedy either brought people closer together or tore them apart. In this case, it had definitely been the latter.
Though it hurt at the time, not having her mother attend the memorial was really a blessing in disguise. Acting normal would have been impossible, and there wa
s no way she could tell her mother all the things she had learned. Telling her that Aunt Jenny had been murdered was impossible. Elizabeth Starr had loved her younger sister. There was nothing to gain in letting her know the truth. Especially when the details were so blurred and sketchy. Who, what, and why were as clear as mud.
Wrapping her sweater tighter around her body, Aubrey looked out at the glorious view. It had been snowing most of the day, and the scenery was incredible. How could she see the beauty before her but feel only the ugliness within?
“Aubrey!”
She turned at the sound of Liam’s voice. He had left this morning before she’d emerged from her room. The text he’d sent her had simply said he had a meeting at OZ and would be back as soon as possible. It was now late afternoon, and the relief she felt was tangible. She was sick of her own company.
Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she grimaced. No way was she going to meet him looking like something a cat had spit up.
