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“Do you mind if I ask why things ended?” I tread carefully.
It takes her a moment to answer. We bury emotions like this for a reason, and when you need to dig them back up, they’re difficult to handle.
“I got pregnant,” she confesses. “Jer and his wife had been trying to have a baby for years, with no success. And there I was, knocked up because a condom broke. I thought he would be happy. I believed him when he said that at the right time, he would leave his wife for me. But she ended up getting pregnant around the same time I was, and when push came to shove, he chose her.”
My jaw is practically on the floor. This woman isn’t innocent by any means. She was sleeping with a married man and knew what she was getting herself into. But she was in love, and that has a tendency of blinding you to what’s right.
“He gave me money for an abortion,” she continues. “And enough extra for me to live on for a bit. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was raised to believe that abortion is wrong, and that baby was made out of love. So, I didn’t terminate the pregnancy. I’ll admit that a part of me was probably hoping he would change his mind, but when I saw a picture of his happy family on the front page of the newspaper, I knew there was no chance of that.”
“That must’ve been so hard for you,” I say sympathetically. “How were you able to get through that?”
She shrugs. “I was pregnant. Pushing through was the only option I had.”
“So, you were a single mother then?”
“I tried to be. But like I said, Mrs. Rollins had done irreversible damage. No one would hire me, and the money Jer had given me had long since run out. I couldn’t provide for my child, so I made the hardest decision of my life. At six months old, I dropped my baby off at the hospital, and I walked away.”
I feel bad, coming into her house and making her relive the most painful time of her life. Judging by the way she talks about Monty’s father, I don’t think he has a violent bone in his body. Though, it does make me want to look further into his mom. I always thought she was the sweetest woman, but evidence shows I am not the person to trust when it comes to character judgment.
“Did you ever find them again?” Mali asks.
She shakes her head. “No. I imagine she’d be somewhere around your age by now, but I’ve never tried looking for her.”
My heart lurches. “It was a girl, then?”
Nodding, she reaches to the table beside her and grabs a dusty, framed picture, blowing it off. “This was only a few weeks before I gave her up.”
I take the picture, and my blood runs ice cold. The baby in this picture looks almost identical to the picture I saw on Riley’s Instagram—even down to the birth mark on her right temple. If she’s Monty’s half-sister, that would give her plenty of motive to want to avenge his death.
“Actually, I’d love a glass of water if you’re still willing,” Mali tells her.
She smiles. “Of course, dear.”
As Theresa gets up and goes into the kitchen, I use my phone to take a picture. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do. Once I’m done, Mali and I share a look, and I can tell she’s thinking the exact same thing I am.
WE END UP STAYINGfor over an hour, just talking to Theresa about all different topics. She’s very sweet, and I get the feeling she’s lonely, which would explain why she spilled so much information once she got to talking. She stays in her house to avoid the media, and she can’t even meet people through work because Mrs. Rollins has done such a good job making sure she’ll never be hired by anyone again. I think she was just enjoying having someone to talk to, so we stayed as long as we could.
Mali and I give her a hug goodbye, and she waves from the doorway as we get back into my car. The moment we pull away and get down the street, I’m practically screaming.
“Oh my God!”
“I know!” Mali agrees.
“Do you think Monty knew?”
She shrugs. “If he did, he never mentioned it to me. He made it seem like his family was perfect. The only thing he ever complained about was not wanting to go into politics like his dad.”
I take a deep breath. “Mal, if Monty had a half-sister around our age, there’s a good chance we weren’t wrong about Riley.”
“Yeah, but how are we going to convince the guys of that? We don’t exactly have a way of proving it’s her.”
I reach behind my back and pull out the hairbrush I stole when we went to the bathroom. “Don’t we?”
Mali’s eyes light up as she takes it from me, seeing all the strands of hair attached, with a root still attached to some. “Fuck Sherlock Holmes. You’re my new favorite detective.”
Now let’s just hope that Hayes and Cam don’t give us a hard time.
OKAY, SO THEY’RE DEFINITELYnot impressed. Hayes seems more stuck on the fact that we went inside, and Cam has gone through an entire presentation with Mali on how easy it would’ve been for this woman to drug her drink, even though it was water. He doesn’t care that the bottle was still sealed, and we quickly realize there’s no reasoning with them.
