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After weeks of deliberation over the subject, her husband had finally agreed and supported her decision. It was on May 22nd,1991, when the married couple drove two hours away from their home to an orphanage in Massachusetts. That day, they met the orphaned children who seemed happy and healthy. Out of all the youngsters, Olivia had noticed one little boy who was extremely withdrawn and not as sociable as the other kids; he reminded her of herself when she was a child. She often felt socially awkward around others, like an outcast in society. Olivia spent some time with the boy in the playroom and instantly fell in love. He was smart for his age. The little boy’s name was Matthias Andrews. The six-year-old had thick brown hair that resembled Noah’s hair color. His big brown eyes were alluring but haunted by pain and trauma.
The Hunters had learned about his past and the tragedy that had happened to his mother on Christmas Eve two years prior. Child protective services had put him into a foster home, but it was later discovered that his foster parents were neglecting and physically abusing him. They had starved Matthias for days as punishment for misbehaving. His foster mother had often pressed a scorching hot spoon on the soles of his feet for his temper tantrums and bed-wetting. The doctor that treated Matthias’s wounds at the hospital contacted the police. His foster parents had lied about the cause of his injury, which led the doctor to put two and two together. The man and woman were immediately incarcerated, and Matthias was treated for third-degree burns before his arrival at Sunny Hill Orphanage in Hampden County, Massachusetts.
George and Olivia felt bad for him. The orphanage director had informed them he did not like to be touched by anyone; it triggered fear and anxiety within the child and made him cry or become violent if physical contact was forced upon him. He missed his mother’s touch, and she was gone.
Olivia understood his trauma. For the longest while, she did not desire any sort of physical affection, either. Despitethis information, the strangest thing happened that day as the Hunters stood in the hall. Matthias walked up to Olivia, stared into her blue eyes, and hugged her like it was the last time he would ever hug another human being again. Olivia felt as if the little boy was embracing her with his soul as she got emotional.
Crouching to his level, she held him in her arms and felt an activation of maternal energy within her: a deep connection that she had never felt with her own biological children. She could not understand it but was convinced that God had put Matthias in her path for a reason.
After completing the paperwork in the oncoming weeks, they officially adopted Matthias into the Hunter family. Olivia had legally changed his name to Evan Michael Hunter—for his own protection. The man who had murdered his biological mother had still been at large.
Noah was excited to have a baby brother. He and Evan got along well for the first couple of months until Evan showed behavioral problems. On his sixth birthday, they gave him a pet cockatoo. A week hadn’t even gone by, and he ended up killing the bird by squeezing its throat until it choked to death. Olivia had believed it was an accident, thinking her son didn’t know his own strength… But Noah had witnessed his brother killing the bird. Evan had gone right up to the cage, took out the cockatoo, and killed it, right before he looked at his brother and said, “Look, Noah! I made him go to sleep!”
Their family pet Bosley was a big St. Bernard who had always been a friendly dog, but was old and sickly. When Evan turned nine, the dog went missing. Breanne had put up posters all over the neighborhood, offering a generous reward if someone returned the dog to the family. But no phone calls came. Six months later, George hired some contractors to landscape the yard, and they ended up finding Bosley. He was dead… buried in a black garbage bag.
The family could not understand how this had happened—and when Noah had accused Evan of doing it, they questioned their son, to which he denied all accusations. Olivia could not believe that a child could physically kill a dog that size and shovel a hole in the yard to bury the carcass.
Ever since that incident, George had felt it was in Evan’s best interest to place him in long-term therapy. He was constantly concerned that his son’s dark past had psychologically affected him. They didn’t know that Evan had found the dog struggling to breathe as he lay dying beneath a tree. He wanted to end his suffering… so he shot him with his father’s pistol in the woods. The child was intelligent enough to cover his tracks.
After this tragedy, the therapy sessions were successful, and Evan stopped his violent behavior toward animals, but that didn’t stop him from being aggressive with other family members.
Noah’s cousin, Felix, was the same age as Evan. He used to come over to play when they were children, but Evan never liked him because the boy would always bully him when no one was looking. Most of Noah’s maternal cousins were mean to his brother and teased him for being adopted. One day, while Felix was playing in the playroom, Evan lit a match and set the curtains on fire before he rushed out and locked his cousin inside. He was twelve years old. Luckily, Noah had been home and kicked down the door to rescue their traumatized cousin.Thiswas the part that Evan had left out when he had told Aria about his “fascination with fire.”
When George and Olivia confronted their son about the upsetting incident, he had told them he was only playing with matches and the curtains had caught fire by accident. To reinforce his innocence, he said that he had left Felix to get help, unaware that his cousin had been locked inside. Unfortunately, many “accidents” had occurred within the Hunter mansion, andEvan was responsible for most of them. No matter what he did, Olivia loved him through it and always felt the need to defend her son. Evan settled down eventually, but by that time, Noah was getting ready to move out and start college. There was a six-year age gap between them.
The neighbors that lived next door to the family had been a married couple with no children. The husband was a lawyer who had remarried, and his wife resembled a platinum haired Playboy Bunny. She was also twenty years younger than her spouse. At sixteen, Evan lost his virginity to this woman, as they engaged in a scandalous, secret affair for two years. Lola Rutherford had given him his sex education. She had trained him to be the perfect lover by introducing him to the world of BDSM. She taught Evan how to be a dominant master, since he showed signs of aggression during sex. Lola’s intention was to help Evan tame that monster within, so that he wouldn’t be a danger to others, nor to himself. Through Lola’s training, he could master discipline and control his aggression, which made sex more pleasurable. What Lola didn’t know was that she was only feeding a demon that had grown stronger inside of Evan.
When her husband discovered the affair, he went straight to George Hunter’s home, demanded to speak to his son, and punched Evan in the face. In the weeks to follow, the man put his house on the market and moved out of the neighborhood with his unfaithful wife. Evan never saw Lola again, but he was far from heartbroken. In fact, he was indifferent about his ex’s sudden departure. Being young and good looking meant he had plenty of options to date attractive women.
By eighteen, Evan started college, but dropped out in his second year because he could not cope with his father’s death. He blamed himself for the tragic accident.
After realizing that college was not for him, Olivia encouraged her son to travel, hoping that he would findpeace. Evan left the country and backpacked all over Europe, documenting his travels. What Olivia didn’t know was that her favorite son had taken a human life, despite returning in better spirits.
The first woman Evan had murdered was an illegal immigrant living in Italy. Her name was Oksana Volkova; she had met Evan at a bar on Christmas Eve. While they got to know each other, she told him about her modeling dreams, and he promised to help her because he thought she was stunning and didn’t belong dancing in a strip club. He brought her to his studio that night and took some photos of her. One thing had led to another, and Oksana found herself in Evan’s bedroom. During their torrid love making, Evan got aggressive. The young woman resembled his mother so much and had told him she was a recovering drug addict—heroin addiction. Something had snapped inside of him. He choked her with his bare hands until she was no longer breathing. After realizing what he had done, he panicked. He had not meant to kill her—it was a psychotic break. Calling the authorities was not an option. The only choice Evan felt he had was to dispose of the body. He cleaned up any traces of evidence and took a boat all the way out to the Tyrrhenian Sea in the middle of the night. Forcing Oksana’s corpse into a large suitcase, he tied an anchor around it and dumped it in the dark waters below. The following morning, he booked a flight to Spain and fled the country.
Since Oksana’s murder, Evan had killed five more women, choosing one victim each year. He performed his ritualistic killing in Europe every Christmas Eve, so that he was less likely to get caught. This pattern never broke until the night he murdered Stephanie Cohen. For weeks, he had been stalking her, planning and waiting for the perfect moment to murder the girl. The kill had been personal, though he hadn’t killed her for pleasure; he’d done it for Aria. In his sick, twisted mind, Evanfelt it was the greatest act of love: to eliminate all her enemies; people who refused to take accountability for the ways they had hurt his niece. When Aria had told him about what Steph had said to her at the Velvet Lounge, he had immediately placed the girl on his hit list without hesitation.
Stephanie had put up a fight when she had regained consciousness that night. Desperate to escape, she scratched his arm, but couldn’t save herself. Evan cleansed her body properly before he buried her in the woods. The police did not know who to investigate, nor did they have any witnesses or evidence. Stephanie’s tragic murder would become a cold case. Evan was sure of that. He had no regrets. His passionate love for Aria had driven him beyond obsession. He believed he was the only man who was worthy of her love because he would kill and die for her. If a man was not willing to make this sacrifice, then he didn’t know what love was; this was Evan’s distorted view on romantic relationships.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
NOAH
Two days ago, I discovered I was not the father of Vanessa’s baby. Relieved by the news, I was still upset, knowing my wife had been having an affair under my nose for so long. My confrontation with Amir had been far from violent. I told him to fuck himself and ended our friendship without losing my cool. To recap: after I had received the paternity test results, I had gone to work the next day and shook the bastard’s hand to congratulate him on fatherhood. Taking the high road, I advised him to head home to rescue his belongings since his wife was most likely destroying everything as we spoke. I’d called her earlier and revealed her husband’s transgressions with my wife. Now that I confirmed Amir was the father, I wasn’t sure how his marriage would survive.
My goal was to get the bastard fired. There was no way we could work side by side in peaceful coexistence. But when it came down to a vote, the other senior partners had me outnumbered. Ending his employment at the firm meant we would lose a lot of our high paying clients. That SOB was good at his job, and we needed him. Amir was great at being aprofessional bullshitter. I could have taken notes from him in that department.
Vanessa ended up signing those separation papers, which meant this was going to be a quick and painless divorce. It shocked Natalie when she heard the news. I took her out to lunch one afternoon and had a conversation with her about our daughter and my marriage problems. She sympathized with me. On a positive note, we established a newfound friendship with one another.
To dampen things, a storm cloud had hovered over sunny California, and that “storm cloud” was my mother; she flew in yesterday. Apparently, she wanted to meet her granddaughter and be here during my time of “need.” I was strongly against the visit in the first place and had communicated that to her, but Olivia Hunter does what Olivia Hunter likes. Being around my family was not good for me.
The routine hospital visits seemed never ending. All I wanted was to take Aria home. We were huddled inside her hospital room on a Wednesday afternoon, waiting for Patrick to arrive. I desperately prayed I’d be an ideal match. The two week wait felt like forever.
“Dr. Peters,” Natalie said. “Finally, you’re here!” She stood up from her chair, looking nervous like the rest of us.
“Please tell me you have good news,” Rob said, holding her hand.
“I do, indeed. But first, I’d like to have a word with Noah, if you don’t mind.” Rick turned his line of sight on me and signaled to meet him outside the room.
