Page 71 of Rich Little Liars

Mine never left hers.

And between us, through the flames, something was sealed. Something was understood. Something passed from her to me – or me to her – that I wouldn’t fully comprehend until much, much later.

The fire roared.

The smoke rose.

And still we stared at each other through the flames – two women standing on opposite sides of an inferno, bound together by death and silence and a secret that would never leave this burning house.

25

NOW

Harvey’s hand is firm on my arm as he guides me across the garden, through the side gate, into the street where his car sits waiting. Not the police vehicle from before – this one is dark, nondescript, the kind of car you’d never notice parked outside your house. The kind of car designed to be forgotten.

‘Get in.’

The pistol is hidden now, tucked somewhere inside his jacket, but I feel its presence. He opens the rear door and I slide in without fighting. What would be the point? The street is empty. The houses are dark. Even if I screamed, who would hear? Who would believe me over a police officer?

He closes the door and moves round to the driver’s side. The central locking clicks with a sound like bones breaking.

‘Where are we going?’

He doesn’t answer. Just starts the engine and pulls away, his movements smooth and unhurried. Like we’re going for a Sunday drive.

‘Harvey – Joseph.’ I try his first name, hoping it might reach whatever humanity I’d glimpsed earlier – or thought I’d glimpsed, before I understood that everything he’s shown me was a lie. ‘Tell me where you’re taking me.’

‘Shut up.’

The words are flat. Final. No emotion behind them at all.

I press myself into the corner of the back seat and watch East Hampton slip past the windows. The houses with their gleaming facades. The park with its perfect lawn. The whole expensive, perfect world I’d tried to make my own. It looks different at night. Smaller somehow. More fragile.

We pass the community centre where I attended that first homeowners’ association meeting. Past Richard’s house, dark and empty now while he lies in hospital with a bleed on his brain. Past the coffee shop where Emma and Natasha probably gossip about me over lattes.

None of them ever really knew me.

None of them will know I’m gone until it’s too late.

The town falls away behind us. Country lanes now, winding between hedgerows that loom dark on either side. I try to track the turns, to build a map in my head, but Harvey drives with the confidence of someone who knows exactly where he’s going. Someone who’s made this journey before.

‘You’ve been planning this for a long time,’ I say. ‘Haven’t you?’

Silence.

‘The notes. The ring. Richard.’ My voice cracks on his name. ‘Was hurting him part of the plan too? Or was that just a bonus?’

Still nothing. His eyes stay fixed on the road, his hands steady on the wheel. He might as well be deaf for all the response I’m getting.

‘What do you want from me? What could I possibly give you that’s worth all this?’

The car turns sharply, tyres crunching on gravel I can’t see. We’re off the main street now, following some unmarked track that winds through trees I don’t recognise. The headlights carve a tunnel through the darkness, illuminating nothing but more darkness ahead.

My mind races through possibilities. A remote location where no one will find my body. Some abandoned building where he can do whatever he’s been fantasising about. The kind of place that features in true crime documentaries, narrated in sombre tones by actors who never quite capture the real terror of being driven somewhere against your will by someone you briefly trusted.

‘I know you can hear me.’ I lean forward, trying to catch his eye in the rear-view mirror. ‘I know you want something. Otherwise you would have just killed me back at the house. You had hours while I was sleeping. You could have done anything.’

A flicker of something crosses his face. Not quite a smile, but close.