Page 78 of City of Liars

“You remember the dream I had the night you—um—came over?”

“Sure.” I remembered, all right, not to mention what had followed. I still hadn’t figured out how to reconcile the weird shit that had happened when we were in the city. “What about it?”

“Well, after our, um, argument, I called the New York Historical Society, and they had a bunch of Charles Carter’s journals. They were only missing a few, from the year that Ella and Lily disappeared until his death in 1931.” There was a creak and then a click, as if a door had eased shut behind her. “So I went to my grandmother’s house to look for them. And I found one. This little book, with ‘CC’ engraved on the cover. Green, just like the one in my dream.”

I rounded the couch and sank down on the cushions. “Holy shit. Well, what did it say?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t looked. My grandma insisted we wait for you.”

My heart picked up speed again, blood pulsing in my ears. “You told your grandmother about our trip?”

“I did.” There was a pause, and then she spoke again. “I told her everything.”

It was my turn to be silent, this time from shock. Holy hell, she was so much braver than I was.

“Theo? Are you still there?”

I tugged at my cuffs, snapping off a stray thread. “Yeah, Liv. I’m here. What do you want me to do?”

And then she said something I thought I’d never hear her say again. “Can you come over? Now?”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I said, grabbing my keys.

Liv greeted me at the door, looking like she’d been dragged backward through a hedge. Her hair was down, and bits of things were tangled in it. There was a smudge of dirt below one of her eyes and her jeans were ripped at the knee. And still, seeing her hit me like a sucker punch to the solar plexus...every time.

Bracing myself, I followed her into the living room. Ella sat on the couch, a small green book beside her, fingers knotted in her lap. She smiled when our eyes met. “Hello, Theo.”

I came to an awkward halt on the rug in front of her. “Hi, Mrs. Carter-Brentwood. It’s good to see you again.”

“I told you, call me Ella.” Her smile trembled around the edges, and my heart went out to her. None of this mess was her fault.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you about who I was when I came here the first time.” I owed her this much. “I wanted to meet you, to see you for myself. But I know that wasn’t the right way to go about it. I’m sorry about the lawsuit, too. I tried to stop it, but…well, I couldn’t.”

Next to me, Liv fidgeted, smoothing her hands down her jeans the way she did when she was nervous. Maybe she hadn’t expected me to apologize, but Ella deserved it. And if I couldn’t be the man Liv deserved, I could at least present my best self to her grandmother.

“Thank you. I’m not pleased you weren’t straightforward with me, but I understand why you did it. As for the suit, we can discuss that after we’ve finished. Come sit down”—Ella patted the couch next to her—“and we’ll read this together.”

I sat beside her, and Liv sat on her other side. “Are you ready, Grandma?” she said.

“I am.” She sat up straight, the journal in her lap. “Theo, are you?”

“Yes,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Open it.”

A musty scent wafted from between the pages as Ella cracked the book open to the first page, covered in neat, rounded handwriting.

I’m not sure who I’m addressing this to, the entry began.

“It’s my father’s writing,” Ella said. “I haven’t seen it in years, but I remember what it looks like. See the curlicues on his ‘f’s? I would know them anywhere.”

“Do you want me to read it aloud, Grandma?” Liv leaned forward, one hand on her grandmother’s knee. “So it’s easier on your eyes?”

“That would be lovely, dear.” To Ella’s credit, her voice was steady.

Her free hand twining in her hair, Liv started at the top of the first page.

I’m not sure who I’m addressing this to. For it is not my hope that anyone living will read these pages.

But perhaps I want someone to read this. Perhaps I want to be caught.