Could the same person have killed Marlowe? Did she somehow stumble across their scheme, and that’s what sent her over the balcony ledge?
One of the people at this party must have pushed Marlowe to her death, just as they must be the mastermind behind the threatening messages. Ava, Preston, Constance, or Damien. Any three of my closest friends, or a complete stranger.
Why would they choose to threaten me with the information? A confrontation or turning me over to the police would be easier. Then again, I’d had choices, too. I decided killing Oliver was a better option; whoever is threatening me must have their own reasons for putting me in their crosshairs.
The idea of spending the rest of my life behind bars is terrifying. Admitting to my loved ones what I’ve done is equally unbearable. If Marmee finds out what I did, she’ll never look at me the same.
And now Ava knows.
She stares at me with watery, bulging eyes. Hands shaking. Her complexion seems drained of life and color. Lips tremble when she speaks.
“Tippi, I don’t understand. That picture.” Her breaths become more ragged, each word collapsing into the next. “What is that? Who is—”
I rip up the photograph in my hands, along with the two cards from earlier in the night, tearing at each piece of paper until they’re nothing more than jagged confetti. I dash to the bathroom and drop the pieces into the toilet, flushing them away.
I can’t erase Ava’s memory as easily. Everything I’ve done tonight—all my actions before the party even began—was meant to conceal my crimes. Now I must explain to her exactly what she saw in that picture, try to make her understand.
I return to the room to find Ava perched on the edge of the bed. She’s leaned forward, as if she’s trying to catch her breath.
“Tippi, I need some answers,” she says. “What the fuck is going on?”
I stand in front of her, my body a barricade between her and the door.
“Oliver didn’t move away after we broke up,” I say. “The body in the picture…that’s him.”
Ava snaps back onto the bed, raises a trembling hand to cover her mouth.
“That’sOliver? He’s dead?”
“Oliver wasn’t who he pretended to be. He’d been lying to me our entire relationship.”
“What lies? I don’t understand—”
I grab her arm, trying to calm her. She recoils from my touch. Is my best friend afraid of me?
“I went through his emails and found out he was lying to me about everything. His job. His business trips. He’d been stealing from Marmee and selling her jewelry to different buyers whenever he said he was out of town for a conference. He was using me, Ava. And it was worse than that. Oliver was dangerous.”
Ava shakes her head, confused. “What do you mean?”
“His first wife. Danielle. She tried warning me about who he was, but I didn’t listen. He killed her, Ava. Injected her with enough insulin to make it look like an overdose. Her death is what convinced me to start looking into Oliver’s things in the first place. I realized everything he was doing, and I followed him here. To Marmee’s house.”
She clenches her eyes shut, wincing as she processes.
“If you had proof Oliver was stealing or killed someone, why didn’t you go to the police?”
Regret squeezes my chest, crippling my ability to continue.
“You’re right. That’s what I should have done, but I wanted to confront him. There was a part of me hoping it wouldn’t be true. I found him in Marmee’s closet stealing her things. I told him our relationship was over, that he needed to leave, but he kept denying everything.” I pause to catch my breath. “He threatened Marmee.”
I dare myself to look at Ava, hoping she’ll recognize the sincerity in my eyes. She knows that nothing could come between Marmee and me.
“Something came over me in that moment. I don’t know how to explain it. Turning him over to the police, trying to convince everyone of who he really was…it didn’t seem like enough. Next thing I knew, I’d grabbed one of the statues in Marmee’s closet and hit him over the head.” The dullthwackof the marble cracking his skull reverberates through my brain. “It only took one hit.”
“Marmee. Did she—”
“She was asleep. No one even knew we were here. I didn’t plan to kill him, but he was dead. Nothing could be done about it. All I could do was clean up the scene and hope no one ever learned the truth.”
Ava’s head turns, as though she can see through the walls to the courtyard, gaze at the pristine centerpiece in the front yard.
