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I’m a little self-conscious about her sitting in my lap in front of her ma when I’ve got every mind to ask permission for certain things and Angela’s looking at me like she knows, but like hell I’m gonna push Ophelia away.
She settles on my thigh, this small thing nestled against my chest with her arms around my neck, looking up at me with sweet expectation.
“Tell us,” she murmurs. “Since we’re ripping all the Band-Aids off today, tell us everything.”
I take a deep breath and nod.
“I’ve just been talking to Law. He’s lucid again and this time he managed to stay up longer than a few minutes. When I told him our suspicions and said I had forensics working on those bones, I think he knew it was up. He spilled everything.” I search their hopeful eyes. “Turns out, when the Arrendells lured Celeste Graves up to the big house for Ulysses’ sick games, Ethan went after her. He tried to stop her murder. Only, Aleksander was a part of that, too. He thought enabling his little brother was funny—a fucking riot—” I can’t hide the growling disgust in my voice. “Sorry. Anyway, he went after Ethan when he knew he was coming. Made Mason Law drive him, chased Ethan off, wound up driving his motorcycle off the road. He...”
My voice breaks.
It’s hard as hell to say this, especially when I can feel Ophelia trembling. She hides her face against my chest as I fold my arms tighter around her, holding her.
“He died in the crash,” I grind out. Both Angela and Ros watch me with wide eyes, frozen and listening. “Aleksander buried him there and made Law dispose of the motorcycle debris and other evidence. Law kept his head down after that, stayed quiet all these years because he was terrified they’d kill him next—until Cora Lafayette found out about Aleksander’s relationship with Ros. She went and confided in Law about the letters. They swapped stories about a lot of Arrendell dirt. Then her murder happened—”
“Murder? Cora’sdead?” Angela’s face crumples. She curls her hand against her chest.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. She didn’t make it easy for them. If it wasn’t for Cora, we’d have never learned all this. Because she didn’t kill herself. Mason and Cora were close and one day Aleksander overheard her telling him about the letters. He took matters into his own hands. He hung her.”
The women gasp.
My heart wrenches with fury, realizing what a fucked up story this is.
Aleksander Arrendell’s savagery only hit its limit because he’s dead.
“Mason, he couldn’t take it anymore,” I continue. “He lashed out, stole the letters, and hid them. He was going to try to warn y’all, using them as evidence, but shit kept going sideways. He wasn’t in the best place mentally. First, we thought he was a stalker, and then it turns out Aleksander poisoned him before he left their property. Some sort of slow acting agent that wasn’t dosed right. That’s why it took so long to catch up with him and take him down. Mason was trying to atone, I think. Trying to soothe a guilty conscience, for not doing anything when Ethan died. In his own way, I guess he succeeded, saving you girls.”
“Oh my God. God, I never...” Angela shakes her head, struggling to continue. “I never fathomed theevilin that house. I never thought—well, it doesn’t matter now.” She gathers a weeping Ros close. “All that matters is you girls are safe now.”
But Ros is stiff and she lets out a choked, “Oh myGod. Holy crap.” Her throat works. “I... I almost married the man who killed my brother.” She goes pale and claps a hand over her mouth. “I’m gonna throw up.”
Angela loosens her grip.
“Bathroom, dear,” she says gently.
There’s a frozen hell moment.
With a nauseated sound, Ros bolts into the suite’s bathroom and slams the door.
Ophelia turns her head from watching, and when she speaks, her voice is subdued. “...will she be okay?”
Angela glances at the bathroom, her eyes troubled. “She will. She’s stronger than you know, dear. Of course, we’ll be there to help her through it.”
“We will,” Ophelia agrees—then squeezes me tight, burying her face in my shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you for telling us, Grant, without leaving out the ugly parts. Honestly, we needed it. We needed the truth, warts and all.”
“Philia, no. If there was any other way, I’d have traded years off my life. I’m sorry this truth has to hurt like hell. It’s got me torn up just as bad as you ladies,” I say roughly, grabbing her hand.
She squeezes me so tight, I hardly notice the warm, soulful smile her ma beams our way.
“Thank you for never giving up. Without you, we never would’ve found out what happened to him. And that freak, Aleksander, I don’t even want tothinkabout what he’d have gotten away with if you hadn’t stepped in, if you hadn’t—” she chokes off, shaking her head severely.
“Ethan was my brother too, Ophelia. Not by blood, but family all the same. Now we can finally give him the rest he deserves.” I’m fucking breaking as I say those words, but it’s the sun in this room holding me together.
This small woman with the same calm, easy smile as my best friend.
I think that’s the one thing all the Sandersons share, that smile, no matter what else makes up the other half of their DNA.
And even if I won’t say it right now, finding out the full grisly picture took something heavy off my heart, banishing a darkness in my soul.
