Page 174 of Trust No One

“I did. She never listened. Had it all figured out.”

“Figured out?”

“She hires a dangerous look-alike, and then turns her back. Matter of time before something bad happened.”

I shifted my thoughts back to Raine. “I thought you liked Raine.”

“I did. But the house and Raine changed after her father died. She became more reckless. Partied too much. And then she pulled that stunt.”

“Stunt?”

“She swallowed a bottle of pills, cut her wrist. Nearly died. I could never forgive her for that. So selfish.”

I’d never blamed Raine for her suicide attempt. If anything, I wished I’d known her then. Maybe I could have helped.

“She was a troubled teen,” I said.

Edith’s gaze hardened. “You and Raine were close in high school. Don’t fall for her again, Judson. She’s just as volatile now as she was then. That’s why I won’t let her have Molly.”

I hadn’t seen any red flags. “My eyes are wide open.”

“You sure about that, Judson? The way you look at her . . . You’re still in love.”

Her words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. Seventeen years hadn’t dulled the sting of losing Raine. I hadn’t planned to rekindle anything with her—but here I was falling into the same trap. I couldn’t prove whether she was innocent in all this or was the catalyst for these deaths.

I steadied my voice. “Thank you for your time, Edith.”

Chapter Sixty-Four

Raine

Friday, October 23, 2026, 4:00 p.m.

“The lady said we should look for ghosts,” Molly said.

She’d finished an hour with Rebecca, the therapist, and now we were winding back to Hale House. The sun was lowering fast, shadows stretching long across the road. The car smelled of the cheese pizza I’d picked up.

“How do we look for ghosts?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Did Miss Rebecca have any suggestions?”

“She said we might hear them. She said if I think Mommy and Daddy are close, they probably are.”

It was a kind way to comfort a child whose world had been ripped apart. Still, Hale House had never been short on spirits—real or imagined. Slowing, I turned through the brick pillars of the driveway.

“Did a ghost ever talk to you?” I asked.

“Not yet.” She sounded disappointed.

I thought about my mother. For weeks after her death, I’d felt her near me—dark, angry, vengeful. The feeling had only faded when I’d left Hale House.

“What did you do with Miss Rebecca other than talk about ghosts?”

“She has lots of toys. She let me draw and play with dolls.”

“Do you want to see her again?”