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But all along, I’d known that my mom hadn’t done it. Edward had died of an overdose. Tragic but all of his own doing.
Now, my certainty wavered.
“Mom?”
She patted my cheek, and a smile came to her face. “When you have a child, you’ll understand.”
“Understand what?” I whispered.
“That you’d kill to keep them safe.”
I stopped in my tracks, but my mom kept walking. Dad jogged to catch up to her. But I was frozen in place. Maddox took my arm.
“Everything all right?” he asked. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “Yes, everything’s fine.” I kissed him, shaking off my uncertainty and laying my head against his shoulder.
I’d tell Maddox eventually. But right now, I bore the secret that my mother had grappled with these last twenty years. The thing she’d never uttered to anyone. That she’d gotten away with for two decades. The truth that she’d buried as thoroughly as her first husband.
She had done it.
And she’d gotten away with it.
