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“Don’t screw this up for us, Mackenzie. Our lives going forward depend on this working.”
I glance over at my mother who’s driving, focused on the road. Her face is blurred through my tears. I’m weak and shaky, drained from all the adrenaline and raw emotion. I feel like I haven’t eaten or slept for a week.
“Maybe I should have turned myself in,” I say.
“No.” Her tone is sharp. “I don’t ever want to hear that from you again.”
I hold back a sob. “I’m sorry. I just feel so guilty. I don’t deserve a second chance.”
“Yes, you do, and if you won’t accept that for yourself, then do it for me. I’ve only recently lost your father, Mackenzie. I can’t lose you as well. I don’t know how I’ll keep going?—”
Her voice cuts off, and I can tell she’s close to tears, too. Guilt condenses like a rock in my chest.
“Okay,” I whisper. Then I repeat it, the word stronger. “Okay.”
“That’s my girl. Do this for me. You’re all I have left. We must be strong no matter what comes our way because you cannot go to prison. I can’t bear it.”
I nod at her and squeeze her arm. I’m not the same person I was twenty-four hours ago. I’ve taken a man’s life, a man who I’d once thought I loved. I’m drowning in grief, and it isn’t just the grief from Paxton dying. It’s for the loss of who I once was, the future I once had.
I’d believed losing my father was the worst thing that could happen to me. I’d been wrong.
I know both our freedom depends on us running because, in the decision to make that phone call, I’ve made my mother an accomplice to my crime.
I’d give anything to undo what I’ve done. I’ve ruined both our lives.
After I’d phoned her, she’d made some calls. An old friend has offered to help hide me—hide us—but it comes with an ultimatum.
My freedom for my mother’s hand in marriage.
My mom took the offer.
Maybe we could have gone to the police and argued that Paxton’s death was self-defense, but rape cases are notoriously hard to prove and very rarely come with any kind of sentence for the rapist. Rape cases where the two people already have an intimate relationship are even harder to prosecute. Plus, Paxton didn’t get the chance to actually rape me, so none of the evidence would have been present. The professor was a respected man, and who am I—some girl who’s already known for having a temper? I’d be going to prison for a very long time. No one would look at me favorably and spare me a jail sentence.
My hands shake in my lap.
Mom reaches over and covers them with one of her own, giving them a squeeze.
“Mackenzie, darling, I know this is a lot, but you’re going to need to hold it together. The rest of the students have no idea why we’re here. You just need to be a normal student, living a normal life. We can’t have anyone asking questions.”
A normal student, not a killer.
She taps underneath my chin. “You can fall apart in private, but not in front of the others. I need my tough, confident girl back again, even if you’re only faking it. Understand?”
I’ll definitely have to fake it.
This is a lot to take in, but I nod. “I understand.”
She shoots me an anxious look. “How are you feeling?”
I know she’s not only talking about emotionally. I blow out a breath. “I’m not sure I even know how to answer that.”
“Well, we’re almost there,” Mom says. “It’s right around this corner.”
I draw a breath and try to pretend my heart isn’t thudding against my ribs. I’m anxious about this new chapter in our lives—no, more than anxious—I’m pretty fucking terrified.
But nowhere near as terrified as I would be if I had to spend the rest of my life behind bars with hardened criminals.
The repetitive clicking of the indicator catches my attention, and then we swing off the main road, which out here in the Adirondacks is pretty traffic free, and onto a winding driveway. Tall trees block the view, arching over the top of the road like a dappled tunnel. I might not want to like this place, but I must admit the effect is kind of beautiful.
