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Suzanne wondered why her daughter didn’t just ask the reason instead of making assumptions, but Beth seemed to think she already had all the facts. “Did you get the information you needed? Good quotes? When’s the story running?”
Was he really writing a story? The thought of it terrified her. She didn’t want to relive it the way she’d relived it again and again over the years.
She’d thought the nightmares were the only reminder of that day, but it seemed she was wrong. It was never going to go away. The questions. The speculation. The blame.
Her palms felt clammy and her pulse was pounding.
Then she felt Stewart’s hand close over hers, strong and steady. He could have shut down this whole conversation, but he clearly thought it was something they needed to hear. And he was right, of course.
Whatever this was, she’d get through it. They’d get through it—
Posy half rose to her feet, ready for a fight. “Beth—”
“Who are you writing for?” Hannah took over the interrogation. “Newspaper? Online blog? And what’s your angle? Twenty-five-year anniversary? Or are you going to pretend that being here is a coincidence? We’re not going to let you hurt Suzanne—please be clear about that.”
Hannah was defending her? Despite the tension, Suzanne wasn’t oblivious to the irony. Her girls were joining together to protect her. She hadn’t seen such a display of teamwork or sisterhood for years. It was more authentic than the robotic interactions that had started the evening. If it hadn’t been for the subject matter, she would have considered it a breakthrough.
But did it have to be this issue that brought them together?
Did they really have to dig it up again?
Luke put his fork down. “It’s not a coincidence.”
Posy sat down hard on her chair, the fight draining out of her. “It’s not?” She was clearly as confused and shocked as Suzanne. “I don’t get it. You’re here because—What is going on?”
Suzanne wanted to echo that question.
Why did Luke want to talk to her about the accident? If he wasn’t a journalist, then what was his interest?
“I’m not here to write up the story and I’m not here to interview anyone. And it certainly isn’t the reason you and I got together.” He held Posy’s gaze. “You know that.”
“Do I?” Posy’s voice wavered. Evidently she was fighting a battle between what she believed and what she wanted to believe. “Did you call my sisters?”
Suzanne was fighting a battle, too. She liked Luke, but now she was worried that her daughter was with a man who didn’t deal honestly with her.
“He did,” Beth said. “His message said, ‘I’d like to talk to you about the accident and your parents.’”
“And what I’d like to know,” Hannah said, “is that if you’re not a journalist, if you’re nothing like the other people who have contacted us over the years, then why are you interested?”
There was a long silence, broken only by the almost-audible throb of suspense.
“Because your parents weren’t the only ones to die in that accident,” Luke said finally. “Mine died, too.”
Suzanne felt disconnected from what was going on around her.
His parents died, too?
But that would mean—
There was a commotion, with everyone talking at once, and then a sudden silence when everyone turned to her to assess the extent of the damage caused by that unexpected revelation.
Her mouth was dry. “Lindsey and David, the other couple who were climbing with us that day, had a son.”
“That’s me.” Luke held her gaze. “I’m their son.”
She felt Stewart’s hand tighten on hers, but she didn’t look at him. She was forcing herself to think back to that time. “Their surname was Palmer. Yours is Whittaker.”
“I was adopted by my mother’s sister, Trudy. Her married name was Whittaker. There was a lot of interest in that accident. They wanted me to be able to have a normal childhood, leave it behind. They raised me as their own. Gave me their name and a home. They lived in Manhattan and that couldn’t have been further from my early life. I vanished off the scene. I wasn’t really the person the world was interested in.”
