Page 36 of Rich Little Liars

‘Caroline’s been…’ He pauses, choosing words carefully. ‘She’s been asking questions. Making suggestions. Nothing concrete, just enough to make people doubt you.’

‘What kind of suggestions?’

‘That you’re hiding something. That your story doesn’t add up.’ He glances at me. ‘I’ve been trying to shut it down. But town gossip is like wildfire. Once it starts, it’s hard to contain.’

The irony of the metaphor isn’t lost on me.

‘What do you believe?’ I ask quietly.

‘I believe you’ve been through something terrible. That you’re trying to rebuild your life and people should give you the space to do that.’ He stops walking, turns to face me. ‘I also believe there are things you’re not telling me. And that’s okay. You don’t owe me your story. But Kelly… if there’s something I should know, something that might help me protect you from whatever’s coming, I wish you’d tell me.’

The kindness in his voice makes my eyes sting. I look away, focusing on the hedgerow beside us, the way the branches tangle together in intricate patterns.

‘I can’t,’ I whisper.

‘Can’t or won’t?’

‘Both.’

He’s quiet for a moment, then takes my hand. His palm is warm against mine, solid and real and reassuring.

‘Then I’ll just have to work with what I know,’ he says. ‘Which is that you’re a good person going through hell. And you don’t deserve to be torn apart by town gossip.’

We walk for another twenty minutes, still holding hands, not talking. When the road gives way to sand and we finally turn back towards East Hampton, I feel fractionally better. Lighter. Like maybe I can survive this after all. But as we approach the park, I see Caroline. She’s standing near the fountain, talking to two other women. When she spots us – spots our joined hands – her expression shifts into something I can’t quite read. Surprise. Perhaps even satisfaction.

She lifts a hand in greeting. Richard waves back, cordial but distant.

‘That’ll be all over the town by tonight,’ he says quietly. ‘Us. Together. Walking hand in hand like a couple.’

‘Will that cause problems for you?’

‘I don’t care if it does.’ He squeezes my hand. ‘Let them talk. Let them speculate. They’re going to anyway, so we might as well give them something true to discuss.’

We part at my front door, the gentle swishing of the ocean waves still audible somewhere over the houses. He kisses me goodbye – proper kiss, not hidden or ashamed – and walks away towards his own house. I watch him go, acutely aware that Caroline and her companions are still standing by the fountain. Still watching.

Let them watch.

Inside, I try to hold on to the feeling of Richard’s hand. The warmth of his kiss. The certainty in his voice when he said he didn’t care what people thought. But it’s already fading, swallowed by the familiar anxiety that lives in this house with me.

The evening passes slowly. I make dinner I don’t eat. I try to read but can’t focus. I turn on the television but the noise feels intrusive, so I turn it off again and sit in silence. Later, in my bedroom, I stand at the window looking out at the garden. At the fence – the darkness beyond. They’re out there, I tell myself. They’re talking about me like I’m some kind of freak.

This is it, isn’t it? This is how it ends. Not with drama or confrontation or some dramatic revelation. Just with slow erosion. Whispers becoming consensus. Gossip becoming truth. Until Kelly Reynolds is forced out of East Hampton by the sheer weight of collective disapproval.

Unless…

Unless I can work out who sent the notes. Who had my wedding ring.

Who knows the truth about that night.

Because that’s the real threat. Not town gossip about lights and brunch gatherings and general strangeness. But specific knowledge. Dangerous knowledge. The kind that could send me to prison if anyone looked close enough.

I lie back on the bed, fully clothed, and stare at the ceiling.

Somewhere in East Hampton, someone knows. Someone is watching. Someone is waiting for the perfect moment to destroy what little I’ve managed to build here, in this rich little town full of rich little people who care more about appearances than being good and truthful. I’ve met their kind before – they’re liars.

And liars are dangerous.

I have no idea which of them is doing this or how to stop them.