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I choked on tears. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t, and it was many years before I realized that. But I knew all along that I wouldn’t let it happen to you.”

“That’s why you gave Dad custody.”

“Yes.”

“And I only came back in the summers because Edward was gone. It was the only time you were safe.”

“Yes. I could have left in the summer, but I didn’t know what he’d do to you if I left. So, I didn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk it.”

I took her hand in mine. “Thank you. Thank you for protecting me, even when I didn’t understand what you were doing. Even when I resented you for it.”

“Josie, I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom.” I squeezed her hand through tear-blurred eyes.

She held her martini glass aloft. “To freedom.”

“To freedom,” I agreed.

We clinked glasses and drank deeply of the gin.

“So,” I asked as casually as possible, “did you do it?”

My mom arched an eyebrow at me. “Be more specific.”

“You know … did you kill him?”

That had always been the rumor circulating. Half the time, I thought it was utterly ridiculous. Half the time, I knew the rumors had to come from somewhere. Usually, I’d assumed it was jealous sycophants who wanted my mother’s money. But after reading the journal, it was entirely unclear exactly what had happened. Edward had been into prescription drugs. He’d done a lot of opioids. Overdoses were common.

My mom laughed. “Ah, I was waiting for this. What do you think?”

What did I think? I stared at my beautiful mother. My mirror. Could I have done it? I really didn’t think so, and I didn’t think she could do it either.

“No. I don’t think you did it.”

“Good. I’m glad, darling,” she said, patting my hand. “I like to hear that. The rumors and all the slander don’t matter. Only what you think does.”

“I have an idea. A wild idea.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to make this into a movie.”

She laughed. “What into a movie?”

“This journal. Your life. I can see it all on the big screen. I know exactly how I’d play it.”

“You want to make my life a movie?” she asked, momentarily shocked.

“Yes. I want to direct it and make it into something valuable. Maddox reminded me that I always wanted to direct and that I was interested in women’s stories. The ones that weren’t being told. What better than your story?”

“That boy is good for you.”

“He is,” I agreed easily. “What do you think?”

“I say yes with two conditions.”

I waited for the ball to drop. For her to request something ridiculous, as she always had when I was a kid. I hadn’t known then that those requests were to keep me safe from Edward, but I’d hated her for them. Though I was learning to forgive and move on from the trauma of my childhood, I couldn’t stop the involuntary reaction.

“What’s that?”

“For one, you play me.”

I relaxed at those words. Then, I laughed. “Me? No, I was going to direct.”

“Directors can be the star too, Josephine. And you, my darling daughter, are both.”

She was right, of course. There were plenty of actors who directed. It wouldn’t be unusual. And … the thought intrigued me. I’d have to step into my mother’s shoes. Could I do that? Could anyone else do it better?

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it. What’s the second request?”

“You have to get your father’s permission too.”

Of course. It was both of their stories. It was only fair that I ask him too.

“I will absolutely do that.”

“Good. I always knew that I was meant for the big screen,” she said with a wink.

And we both giggled at that.

I felt the bridge finally rebuilding between us, and this movie was only going to bring us closer. And I couldn’t wait.

30

ATLANTA

PRESENT

“What if he says no?” I asked, chewing on my hair in Maddox’s truck as we got off I-85 and headed toward my dad’s house.

“Then, he says no.”

“I don’t have another idea.”

“You’ll come up with another idea,” he assured me. “You were off for no time at all and had this idea. I’m sure if you gave yourself another week, you’d have a new idea.”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

“And he’s not going to say no. It’s not like you’re going to show him in a negative light.”

“No … just Edward.”

“Personally, I think he wouldn’t care if everyone saw Edward as the villain.”

I glanced at him. “Not speaking from experience, are you?”

He squeezed my hand. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. Sure,” I said with a laugh.

Even with Maddox’s words in my head, I couldn’t stop the nerves as we parked in front of Dad’s house. I grabbed the book and shouldered my bag before hopping out of the car and walking to the front door.

Maddox knocked, and Dad opened the door, holding a paintbrush. I just shook my head.

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