Page 98 of Mirror Image

Yeah, she broke some ribs, I think—and her pelvis . . .

And there, at last, is the unraveling of the thread I’ve been pulling on.

One thing is chance.

Two things are a coincidence.

Three things are a conspiracy.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Mary

Two years ago

My parents didn’t see me at first—him dropping their bags in the foyer while she plucked the small stack of mail off the walnut table.

“Ah, home again, home again,” he said to no one in particular. “I am so looking forward to sleeping in our bed tonight.”

“Mmm. I know. You never do sleep well away from home,” she agreed. “Oh, here’s the invitation to Jay and Nancy’s wedding.”

“I was hoping maybe we wouldn’t make the guest list,” Dad grumbled. “I wouldn’t know them if they stood next to me in an elevator!”

“Oh now, come on, Doug,” she chided. “He’s your CFO’s son; it’s the least you can do. Besides, the invitations are finally starting to trickle in again since . . . you know, since all the fuss.”

They were talking about me. And Sam.

“Oh please,” he countered, and I could just imagine him rolling his eyes. “Everyone wants us at their wedding because they know we’ll buy the most expensive thing on their registry—just so no one can accuse us of being cheapskates!”

It was clear his attempt at humor wasn’t working as she sighed heavily.

“Do you think we’ll ever get to do this?” she asked wistfully, waving the invitation around.

“Do what?”

“Announce our daughter’s wedding? Walk her down the aisle? Hold our grandbabies?”

I could hear the tears in her voice, and it almost softened my resolve.

Almost.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath about meeting those babies,” I said, stepping out of the shadows.

They both jumped.

“Mary! Oh, dear Lord!” Mom gasped, startled. “What on earth are you doing lurking in the shadows like that? You scared me half to death!”

“There’s my Marebear!” Dad said, making a move to embrace me.

When I held up a single palm, he halted right in his tracks.

“Don’t,” I said coolly. “Just don’t.”

“Sweetie, what is it?”

When I held up the file folder, I watched the color drain from their faces simultaneously, expressions morphing from confusion, to concern, to horror. I swear I heard my father gulp just like they do in the cartoons. If I hadn’t been so enraged, I might have laughed at the absurdity of it.

“I wanted to get a closer look at the trust documents, so I decided to just have a quick peek in the safe . . .”