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“And how would that be any different than it is now.”

“I love you,” Margot said. “Every day I’ve loved you more. You’re the daughter—” Margot stopped, tears flooding her eyes, her voice thick. “You’re my daughter.”

I thought about Matt and his father—those weeks of macaroni and cheese and the forgiveness that Matt gave him. Maybe tomorrow I’d find that forgiveness, somewhere. Somehow. But right now I was empty. Nothing but echoes and hurt.

I stepped past Margot without a word and climbed up the stairs to my daughter’s room and pressed my hand to the door as if I could feel Katie through the wood. And I could. In my mind I could feel my daughter anywhere.

There was no doubt in my mind that my own mother had never felt that connection. Not once.

But Margot did. I knew, because I felt the same connection to Margot.

The door slid open soundlessly and I crept in, easing myself into Katie’s bed, curling my body around Katie’s body, my own tiny heart.

MATT

I gave my statement to the cops and watched them put Vanessa, snarling like a rabid dog, into the back of a cruiser.

“Thanks, Matt,” Juliette said, stepping beside me so the car could leave. “Tell Savannah I’ll be by tomorrow morning.”

I waited for her to drive away before running into the house, desperate to stop what I saw in Savannah’s eyes.

It was like watching a person bleeding out right in front of me and not being able to stop it. Every second I spent away from her I knew I was losing her.

I needed to show her that no matter where I went—St. Louis, the North Pole, the moon, I was here for her. My heart was right beside hers. If she’d let me in.

My compass told me she was upstairs. Instead of going to her room I went to Katie’s—somehow sensing her need to be close to her baby.

I knocked softly on the door and after a few moments it cracked open, revealing Savannah and her haunted empty eyes.

Speechless in front of all that pain, I reached for her fingers where they curled against the door. One touch and she shifted away.

No touching. Got it.

“Are you okay?” I asked, hating the stupidity of that question but not knowing where else to start.

She blinked and licked her lips. “Sure,” she lied.

“Savannah. You don’t have to pretend—”

“I’m tired,” she whispered and glanced behind her. “And I don’t want to wake up Katie.”

I waited until she shut the door in my face before retreating to the sleeping porch.

18

MATT

“It’s stunning,” Margot said the next afternoon, her face radiant with a bright smile. I felt an insane amount of pride. I was overwhelmed with it, actually. Humbled by it. “It’s so…”

“Totally perfect!” Katie cried, spinning around in a circle, taking in what, I had to admit, was a totally perfect courtyard.

The flowers were planted, small hills and valleys of pinks and greens. Roses and hostas. Forget-me-nots, bougainvillaea and birds of paradise. Wisteria, lilac, honeysuckle. It was fragrant to the extreme, and I would never smell another flower without thinking of these women.

The cypress was trimmed and magnificent, the cobblestones replaced by a stunning carpet of green. The wall, barely visible in the back, was strong and would stay that way for a hundred years. The new greenhouse, a kit I’d ordered and modified, gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight.

This was my gift, my offering, my heart, beating and red with blood—for Savannah.

Savannah, who was silent. She stood to the side, her arms across her chest. She looked so thin, so small. Lost in the icy distance between her and everyone else.

“What do you think?” I asked her.

“It’s so beautiful, Matt,” Savannah whispered. “It’s…” She smiled slightly and my heart chugged. “I’m speechless.”

“What about the fountain?” Katie asked, pointing to the burlap-covered structure in the seedling maze.

“Let’s check it out.” I led the way, my troop of women fanning out behind me. When they were all standing around the fountain I’d had a friend ship to me—a piece I’d admired for a long time but had no place for—I untied the twine and pulled off the burlap.

Three delicate copper-and-steel women danced in a circle, long hair streaming, arms raised in jubilation, their mouths open wide as if singing or laughing. Red and pink enamel flowers laced their hair and filled their hands. Blue birds and yellow butterflies darted amongst them.

When I turned on the valve, the fountain spun and the women danced in a light rain.

“Is that us?” Katie asked.

“Those are my wild and unpredictable O’Neill women.” I palmed Katie’s head, giving it a shake.

In the silence the fountain spun and my heart pounded.

“I remember when you were born, Savannah, honey,” Margot said, her voice choked with tears, her gaze on Savannah like a spotlight. “Carter and Tyler were born up north, but Vanessa came home when she was pregnant with you. She was so big, I thought you were going to weigh ten pounds.” Margot laughed and sniffed, digging in her pocket for a tissue. “There was something going on with her. She said that she and Richard were having a fight, but I knew it was something more. Something bad she was running from. Carter—” she blew out a big breath “—Carter was like a guard dog over Tyler, it made me so scared something had happened to one of them. With the company Vanessa kept, it only seemed a matter of time before someone got it in their head to hurt one of the little boys.” She shook her head, her lips pressed tight as if keeping the worst of her fears locked inside. “Anyway, Vanessa went into labor in the middle of the night. Real fast. Asleep one minute, screaming her head off the next. We got her into the hospital in the nick of time—I swear I thought you were going to be born into my arms on the front lawn.”

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