Page 130 of Weight of Guilt

Rachel’s expression shifted—but only slightly. “His aunt?”

Wren paused. “That’s right.”

Rachel tilted her head and stared at her.

A cold sensation slipped down Wren’s spine. “What?”

Rachel shifted and frowned before saying, “Jacob doesn’t have an aunt.”

Chapter

Sixty-Four

Wren blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he doesn’t have any aunts.”

There was clearly a misunderstanding. “Are you sure? I mean, I remember hearing the story and . . .”

“I’m positive.” Rachel slowly shook her head. “His mother was an only child. His dad had two brothers, one who never married, and the other was married but his wife died a long time ago.”

Wren felt the room tilt just enough that she planted one hand on the edge of the nearest table. “I . . . I don’t know what to say. I know that’s what Nora told me.”

Rachel gave a short laugh that held no humor. “I was married to him for six years. I’m pretty sure I’d know if he had an aunt.”

Nash stepped up beside Wren and kept his voice calm. “Did Jacob have a relative treated at the hospital within the past four or five months?”

“Not that I know of. He doesn’t even have any relatives nearby.”

Rachel started to say something else, then stopped.

Nash caught it and stepped closer. “What is it?”

She looked between them. “I mean, this is probably nothing. But Jacob hates hospitals.”

Wren’s pulse jumped. “What do you mean? Why?”

Rachel lowered her gaze. “His mom died in one. Cancer. He spent a lot of time there near the end. After that, he avoided hospitals whenever he could. Ellie needed stitches last year, and he made me take her because he said he couldn’t sit in an ER.”

Wren stared at Nash. He’d gone completely still.

“He lied,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Nash said.

“Why would he lie about that?” Rachel squinted before shaking her head in confusion.

His jaw tightened. “Because he needed a reason to be at that hospital.”

Wren’s chest tightened. “To meet Nora?”

Nash met her gaze. “Maybe.”

A memory hit her.

Dark sedan. Four doors. Sitting low.

Wren grabbed Nash’s sleeve. “His car.”