Page 57 of You Know Why

“I can’t leave them, Theresa. Margot and the kids are at my house.”

“Alone?” At my nod, she held up a finger and opened her phone. “I need a car to head to this address . . .” I told her, and she repeated it into the phone. “Do a welfare check and a full security sweep. Then await my instructions.”

“Thank you.” I couldn’t stomach the idea of those kids getting hurt. “Why did Andrew kill his parents? Do you know?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I can’t discuss the details. All I can say is it’s not safe for you to be anywhere near this family. So if you do decide to stay, be aware that you could get caught in the cross fire.”

After that, Grady Memorial didn’t stand a chance. While it was medically safe but not recommended, Margot insisted on moving Brooklyn. I’d never seen anything like it. She was ferocious. She badgered the insurance company to agree, found a bed at Vanderbilt, hired a medical ambulance service, and otherwise worked tirelessly to get her sister home. It was impressive. Very impressive. She was organized and dedicated, and unwilling to compromise. And she managed to pull it all off in six hours. I think the hospital was relieved, actually. The last thing they needed getting out to the press was the news that someone was stalking their halls, trying to murder the patients.

While all that was happening, hulking men and women with weapons appeared at the door to Brooklyn’s room, a combination of FBI and GBI. No one was going to take a chance with her life again.

So three days after the accident, two days after Andrew’s parents were murdered, and one day after the second attempt on Brooklyn’s life, we moved to Nashville.

I drove us there. I wasn’t about to step away from them now. I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

Grand March

Chloe

Twenty Years Ago

“Eden, would you please get out of the bathroom? I need to curl my hair, it’s getting late.”

It was Grand March night, and Chloe was a bundle of nerves. It didn’t help that Eden had been sniping at her all afternoon. Chloe was the only sophomore who was going to prom, and the only Barrow attending, too. No one asked Eden to prom. Oh, she pretended she doesn’t care, pretended there was no way she would go to such a “ridiculous event.” But Chloe knew deep down, Eden would pretty much kill to be in Grand March.

Which was probably why her sister was being such a bitch. She’d been locked in the bathroom for the past hour, holding the curling iron hostage. She’d also removed the key that lived above the doorframe, so Chloe couldn’t get in at all.

Chloe banged on the door again. “Come on, Eden. This isn’t funny. Please open the door.”

Tonight was a big deal. A tradition in their little town, Grand March saw the high school prom-goers from all the schools—there were two, one public and one private Catholic—assemble for a red-carpet event. The parade of self-conscious teens in tuxedos and gowns were professionally photographed, received cheers and adulation from the entire town, and then headed off to their respective prom nights.

Chloe was trying to play it cool, but she was an absolute wreck. It was almost three now. Andrew was supposed to pick her up at four, drive them in his dad’s silver BMW downtown, and escort her through the Grand March. Her long, flowy dress was the palest pink with a princess neckline, and she was wearing a pair of pale-pink Chucks—there was no way she could manage heels all night. Most of the girls wore sneakers anyway.

She heard a click and lunged for the doorknob. She saw a flash of her sister’s normally ratty ponytail now smooth and bouncy as she flounced into her bedroom. “Finally,” Chloe said. “Jerk.” She found the key and put it back above the doorframe, then set to work on her hair, ignoring the music now blasting through the door from Eden’s lair––“Mr. Brightside,” on repeat. Chloe couldn’t help but think Eden was sending her a message. She knew her sister was jealous of her relationship with Andrew. Half the town was, too.

“Tough shit,” Chloe whispered, twirling the iron through one last section of hair. “He’s mine.”

Her mom appeared in the doorway just as she was giving herself a once-over. “Oh, honey. Adorable! You are just as cute as a button. Wait until your dad sees.”

“Mom. Cute is horrible. I need elegant. Spectacular. Woman of mystery.”

“Women of mystery do not wear pink.” This from Eden, who was now skulking in the hall. The derision in her tone made Chloe’s blood pressure rise.

“Why do you have to be so mean?” She was shocked by the plea. She could usually ignore her sister’s barbs, but for some reason, tonight she was feeling extra sensitive.

“I’m just telling the truth,” Eden said lightly. “The asshole is here, by the way.”

“Oh, shoot, I’m not ready! Mom, help. I need to get my hair off my left shoulder.”

Ignoring the scoffing laugh from Eden, Chloe set to work with a comb and a rhinestone barrette, and her mom held the hair back so she could get it positioned perfectly. When she was satisfied, when the rest of her hair cascaded in blond ringlets down the right side of her neck and over her shoulder, she sighed with happiness.

“Okay. Now I’m ready.”

Eden had disappeared, thank God. Her sister was miserable on the best of days. Grand March? No way she wasn’t a little humiliated not to be a part of things.

Chloe’s room was at the top of the stairs. There was a landing halfway down, so she knew that if Andrew was watching, he’d only see her feet and the bottom of her dress until she hit the landing and turned to face him. Very dramatic. She was so nervous. The whole town was going to see her on his arm. His parents, her parents, their teachers. It wasn’t like everyone didn’t know they were dating; she was at his parents’ open house over the holidays—their official coming out—but this was an even bigger deal. He was definitely going to be prom king. He got a scholarship to Tennessee to play football, and Knoxville felt so far away; though it was only a three-hour drive, it might as well have been on another continent. After tonight, everything would change. In a few weeks, he would graduate. Move on. Leave this small mountain town to become a star. Leave her behind.

But tonight, he was hers.