I hoist my backpack over my shoulder and look at my auntand uncle. They pull me into a tight embrace, and emotion clogs my throat because it’s so fricking nice to feel like I’m part of a family. Like I belong. As Dan said yesterday, it doesn’t matter where I am—I’ll always have them to lean on. That’s what family is for.
“Thank you for everything,” I tell them. “I, um, love you guys.”
My aunt’s eyes get a little misty. “We love you too, darlin’.”
I glance at the Uber. “I have to go.”
“Call us!” Maggie shouts as I carry my suitcase to the waiting car.
I greet the driver, a gray-haired man with kind eyes, but my gaze stays glued to the window. As he turns the car around and steers up the driveway, I watch the Shipley home get smaller and smaller until it eventually disappears into the trees.
Once we’re on the road, the driver says, “Nashville, here we come.”
I lean forward, catching his eye in the rearview mirror. “Actually, I have one stop to make first.”
Ten minutes later, we’re in Starling, and the driver pulls up in front of the animal shelter.
“Do you mind waiting for me? I won’t be long.” I offer a rueful smile. “I tip really well.”
That makes him chuckle. “Take your time, hon.”
When I enter the shelter, JP looks up from the desk, his face breaking into a warm smile at the sight of me.
“Well, look who decided to stop by!” he says, clearly touched. “Didn’t think I’d get a goodbye visit.”
I force a smile, but it feels tight. “I’m not here to say goodbye.”
Everett’s dad raises an eyebrow, his smile fading a little. “Oh. All right.”
Without another word, I set my purse down on the counter. I reach inside and pull out a small plastic baggie, holding it up for him to see.
Inside, two chipped red fingernails glint under the fluorescent lights.
JP stares at the baggie. “What…what’s that?”
“These,” I say quietly, “are fingernails, JP. They were stuck in the stone at the top of your wishing well. They fell out when I was climbing the ladder, but I didn’t realize what they were at the time. I thought it was chunks of concrete until I got home later and saw them, caught on my sweater.”
JP’s eyes shutter. He swallows hard, looking anywhere but at the bag.
“Thing is, these were thirty feet above the ground,” I continue, my voice growing softer. “Thirty feet above where your wife supposedly died on impact.” A shiver runs through me. “Someone in that well tried to climb the ladder. Tried to push the lid off, to pry it open. Tried so hard that she ripped her own nails out.”
I let that sink in, watching his reaction. He doesn’t even blink.
“And considering what I’ve heard about Leah’s love of red nail polish and how she used to paint Nikki’s nails the same shade…I’m guessing that someone was Leah.”
Only the slight twitch at the corner of his jaw betrays his agitation.
“Did you know?” My voice is sharper now, no longer a questionI need him to answer but one I demand he does. “Did you know she was still alive when you sealed her in?”
His shoulders slump. I can see the fight slowly draining from him.
“Yes,” he says. “I did.”
Forty-five
Your Choice
I stare at JP in shock, because what he’s saying is unfathomable to me.
