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I hear the creaks above me. Their steps seem tentative, maybe even afraid. And eventually, when Sienna calls out, “What’s wrong?” I hear the edge in her voice. She doesn’t need to ask—she already knows what I’ve figured out.
19
KIT
MONDAY, MAY 1, 2017
There are a few reporters hanging out on the circle, waiting for me to return to my father’s house after work. I duck my head and run past all of them, slipping inside the door before they can snap a photo. It’s quiet inside when I step into the foyer, but I can tell the place isn’t empty. There’s kinetic energy within the walls, a vibe that puts me on edge. I drop my keys on the table by the door and slip off my shoes. “Hello?” I call out. No answer. “Hello?” I call again.
The hair on the back of my neck prickles. A terrifying notion crosses my mind: The killer is back. Maybe he’s lurking around a corner, ready to take me, too.
When I turn into the kitchen, I stop short, my heart leaping into my throat. Willa sits at the island, her head in her hands. My girls are at the table, staring at me numbly. Sienna’s face is blotchy. Aurora’s skin has gone sickly pale. My gaze swings from Willa to them again, and then it hits me.She talked to them.Unbelievable.
I drop my purse angrily on the floor. “I asked you forone thing. You can’t even do that for me?”
Willa holds up her hands. “Wait. I’m sorry. I know you didn’twant to. But...” She looks goadingly at Sienna and Aurora. “Tell her what you told me.”
I glance at my daughters, but it’s as though a curtain has been thrown over my eyes. I don’t want to see them like this—sobbing, secretive,guilty?Maybe I’m not ready for whatever this is. Maybe it’s far worse than petty complaints about me being a shitty mother lately.
I look angrily at Willa. “I told you not to question them. Itold you.”
“Kit,” Willa pleads. “Just listen. Sienna wrote the e-mails.”
Time slows down. Sienna’s head is down, so I can see the grease in her scalp. Aurora is chewing on her lips like a feral animal. “Huh?” I splutter.
“The e-mails to Greg. Sienna is Lolita.”
It feels like they’ve whipped the big wooden lazy Susan that sits in the center of the table straight at my gut. “You?And...Greg?” Horrible images flood my mind.
“No!” Sienna looks horrified. “I...” She glances desperately at Willa, and Willa makes an encouraging gesture with her hands for her to continue. “I wrote both sides of the conversation,” she mumbles. “Greg’s... and mine. From different computers, so the IP addresses are different... but it’s all me.”
I sink onto a stool. Sienna’s face contorts with shame. I want to go to her, but all I can think of are the words in those e-mails. Greg said such gross things to that woman. I’m supposed to believeSiennawrote that?
“Why?” I whisper.
Sienna’s breathing is choppy. “I-I wanted you to see what he turned into. It’s why I put them in the deleted folder. A-And I was hoping that you’d open up his computer one day and find them in there and it would end things for good. It’s not like I knew the hack was going to break. And even then, I didn’t think someone was going to find the e-mails. But then... they did.”
There’s a sour taste in my mouth. So Siennahadwanted to talkabout the e-mails with me before the benefit. Not to process her anger but to confess what she’d done. But I hadn’t let her talk. I’d shut her out, I’d drawn my own, incorrect, conclusions. I condemned Greg, left him alone to be murdered in our kitchen. Did I bring this on myself?
Something vile occurs to me, and I rush toward her. “What do you mean, you wanted to show me what he’d turned into? Was he hurting you? Or Aurora?” I glance at my other daughter; she has curled into a ball in her chair.Please don’t let it be that.
Sienna shakes her head. “No.No.I just... I knew he was having an affair with someone, and I wanted you to know, too.I broke into his e-mail and looked around for incriminating messages that would prove it to you, but I didn’t find anything. And then I decided to make something up. It’s not a lie, really. I just needed to plant the seed, because you deserve someone better.”
“Jesus,” I whisper. I’m in such shock I can’t even swallow. “Sienna,you? Really?”
“I’m sorry!” Sienna covers her face with her hands. “I didn’t know what else to do! I wanted the best for you!”
“But how do you even know he was having an affair? Do you have proof?”
“K-Kind of.” She sniffs. “There was this one incident, last winter. After a snowstorm. Greg was at a late surgery. I was up, watching Netflix. Past midnight, I heard the key in the door. Something crashed. I was freaked out that we had a burglar, so I ran to the landing. I saw Greg stumbling around.”
“Stumbling,” I repeat.
“He could barely walk.” She twists her mouth. “Definitely drunk.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. Greg went out after surgeries, sometimes. He needed to blow off steam. He sometimes went to business dinners, too—with the head of the hospital, or pharma reps, or sometimes even for media interviews.
“It’s not a crime to be drunk,” I say.
