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SERAPHINA
If Tryst told me I needed to ask my mother if she and Hewitt had an affair, I swore I’d haul off and belt him. Fortunately, he didn’t.
“I do not think so,” he said instead. “However, I do believe she met with Hewitt without your father’s knowledge.”
“What about?”
“I’m uncertain.”
“If you had to guess,” I snapped. None of this was Tryst’s fault or doing, but I’d had enough of this shit.
“Then, I would say it would have been to ask for help.”
“Was this before or after the accident?”
“Before. Maybe after as well.”
“How do you know this?”
“I saw them.”
“Before?”
Tryst nodded. “Yes.”
“Where?”
“Outside the Ridge winery building. Your mother appeared to be crying.”
I drew in a deep breath. “Did he comfort her? Embrace her?”
“Not that I saw.”
“Where were you?”
“The Avila estate borders Ridge’s.”
“Were you close enough to hear what either of them said?”
He shook his head.
Was this how she knew Hewitt had stolen the wine formulas? Had my father gone to the bar that night to confront him based on something my mother told him? If that was the case, I wondered how she could’ve held in the guilt all these years.
“She said Hewitt stole something from my father.”
“I cannot say one way or another whether that is true.”
“Have you heard rumors to that effect?” I felt like I was leading an interrogation.
“I have not.”
“I’m sorry, Tryst.”
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for. You’re seeking answers. Unfortunately, I do not have them.”
“Can I be honest with you about something?”
“Always.” He reached over and patted my hand.
