She does not fight me. She folds forward, hands gripping my shirt now, face pressed against my chest. Her whole body shakes once, violently, then goes still.
“She lied,” she says into me.
I wrap one arm around her back and keep the other free. Always one hand free. Even now.
“She lied,” Kara says again.
“I know.”
“She let me call her. She let me tell her I was scared.”
My jaw clenches so hard it aches.
“I know.”
“She told me to call Dr. Vale.”
Sloane’s eyes sharpen. Kara lifts her face, tears in her eyes now but not falling. “She knew what that would bring up. Culinary school. The old sabotage. She wanted me thinking about anxiety and trauma and patterns, but not her. Not ever her.”
The room goes quiet again. This time, it is not shock. It is alignment. The pieces are turning into a very ugly picture. But we all see it clearly. Most of all, Kara is seeing it.
Rafi leans closer to his camera. “Kara, I need to ask you something. Did Vanessa know Dr. Vale’s name before this week?”
“Yes.” Kara wipes at her cheek with the heel of her hand. “She was the one who drove me to my first appointment years ago.”
Another message hits my phone. Same unknown number. This time there is an image. I do not open it until Sloane moves beside me.
The photo loads.
Bluefin Marina.
My boat.
Taken from a distance while Kara and I returned from the water. She is standing near the console, red hair wild, cover-up loose around her shoulders. I am at the wheel, looking ahead. Beneath it, words.
He doesn’t get to keep you.
Kara reads it over my arm. Her breathing stops. Then her phone, sealed in the evidence bag on the table, starts ringing.
Vanessa … the name glows through plastic in a way that is both familiar and monstrous.
Kara stares at it. No one moves. The ringing stops. A voicemail notification appears.
Sloane reaches for the bag. “We can play it.”
Kara’s face changes and she looks very decisive.
“No,” she says.
Sloane pauses.
Kara looks at me. “I’ll listen.”
I want to say no, but I bite my tongue. God knows, she doesn’t need more pain. Kara lifts her chin, still pale and shaking.
“Not because she gets to reach me,” Kara says. “Because I’m done letting her hide behind the voice I trusted.”
Sloane’s gaze shifts to me. I nod once. He opens the voicemail on speaker.
