“He fooled us both, Tanya,” Nancy said, taking a couple of steps up toward her. Tanya shook her head, smoking, avoiding looking at Nancy as she reached the landing.

  “You tell yourself what you want to, but I will never believe you. I don’t believe for one second that Charles would have kidnapped you and held you captive in that shed. No matter what you say.”

  “But, Tanya, don’t you see? He fooled the entire world—you, the kids, everyone. He made them believe I was kidnapped or had been killed in a home invasion. I didn’t want to believe it either, but then he tried to kill me. You heard the shot that night. He stood over there by the guesthouse and pointed the gun at me, then fired it. I was just lucky he missed.”

  Tanya glared at her, then shook her head. “I still don’t believe it. You’re lying or remembering it wrong. Charles would never do that.”

  “That’s what I used to say too. I used to love him like you obviously do. I was smitten by his charm and the look in his eyes. The way he smiled when looking at me was the best part. It lit up his entire face. There was nothing better than seeing him light up like that when I entered the room. I thought he loved me. I believed in him and me. But he’s a sociopath, Tanya. He almost got away with kidnapping me and later trying to kill me. Meanwhile, he played the devoted husband to you and father to my children, saddened by the loss of his wife. It’s sick, Tanya. He is a very sick man.”

  There was a glint of something in Tanya’s eyes that made Nancy believe she was reaching her, or at least a small part of her, but a moment later, it was gone. A car drove up behind her.

  Tanya put the vape away, then lifted up her suitcases. “One of these days, Nancy, the world will realize what a liar you are, and you’ll get what you deserve. Just you wait and see. Enjoy the house; please try not to break anything. I want it perfect for when I come back.”

  Chapter 41

  Melissa left, and I cuddled up under the blanket, glaring at my phone on the table. Did I even want Matt to call me? I was so furious at him for the things he said; I wasn’t sure I would be able to speak to him. He knew my weight was my weakness. He knew how much it would hurt me to say those things. Was that the point of it? Or was he simply just not happy with me being this way? Because having a child doesn’t usually make you skinnier afterward, and I hoped he realized that.

  Was Matt really that superficial?

  I got up, walked to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water, then returned to the couch, and sat down. I looked at my phone’s display again to see if he had texted me while I was gone, but nothing.

  Should I text him?

  I was, after all, the one who left him in the restaurant. Maybe I should be the one to reach out first? Was that what he was waiting for?

  Or had he just given up?

  I felt so confused, and I wanted so terribly to go back to that dinner and take everything back that I had said. If only I hadn’t spoken about proposing. If only I hadn’t emasculated him like that. He needed to be in control of this. He needed to feel like a man. It was only natural.

  “Since when did things become so complicated?”

  I groaned the words out in my living room. I rubbed my forehead and closed my eyes while thinking about the baby. Would Matt and I be able to mend the pieces? It would be easier to quit now than to start over again. We could share custody. But was it the life I wanted for my unborn? At least my three others had their dad living with them while growing up.

  For crying out loud, Matt. Stop being proud. Call and tell me you’re sorry, and you didn’t mean it.

  I sniffled and sipped my glass when the phone on my table buzzed. Startled at this, I spilled a few drops of water on my PJs before putting it down. I wiped them off with one hand, then reached for the phone with the other, my heart pounding in my chest.

  The display said, Roberts.

  Dang it!

  I closed my eyes in disappointment and pinched the bridge of my nose, pushing it back, …all the anger and resentment. Why couldn’t it have been him?

  “Yes?”

  “Thomas,” Roberts said. “I don’t quite know how to tell you this.”

  “Really? Not many people say that these days, they usually just blurt out the truth without considering my feelings.”

  “Eh…?”

  “Sorry. That was personal. What’s going on?”

  “I have emailed you a report. It’s from the forensic’s office. Take a look at it. I have to say it doesn’t look good.”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “Just read it, and then we’ll talk, okay?”

  Chapter 42

  Nancy enjoyed being home. It wasn’t true what Tanya had said, that it was no longer her house. The furniture and the things in the cabinets and drawers might be new, but the old house still felt very much like hers.

  “Finally,” she groaned as she sat down in a rocking chair by the window overlooking the river, where the sun was beginning to set. The sky was painted in a gorgeous pink, and Nancy was taken back to her life before the incident. She and Charles used to sit and watch the sunsets together. Well, before the kids came, of course. After that, everything changed. They got busy, and there was no sitting still. It was only natural; that’s the way it went, yet she couldn’t help missing those days when things were simple. Back when they could wait till late before deciding what they’d have for dinner—if they’d go out or cook together in their big kitchen. It had been brand new back then, and it was Nancy’s favorite part of the house. Charles and Tanya had remodeled it, and as Nancy walked out there to look, she barely recognized it. It was all white now and modern. No more granite countertops at the breakfast bar where the kids sat and ate, spilling milk and cereal. Everything was now black and white, with surfaces so clean, Nancy wondered if Tanya had ever cooked a meal in there.

  Nancy touched the counter and ran a finger across it. She walked back to the living room and stood in front of the end wall, then touched it gently, letting a flat palm caress it in the place where the blood had been. It had been cleaned and painted over, probably more than once since they renovated the kitchen.

  Nancy gasped lightly, then turned away from it. She was breathing raggedly now as some of the memories came back to her. She grabbed hold of the back of the couch and leaned on it while the images rushed through her: the fist punching her face, her falling back into the wall behind. Her fighting to stay conscious as he grabbed her shirt and pulled her up, screaming in her face, then punching her again and again. As she closed her eyes, she could still feel the pain from it.

  Fighting to breathe, Nancy let go of the couch and decided to go outside. Too many thoughts and memories were crowding her mind now, and she couldn’t stand it. It was too much. Too heavy.

  Nancy walked out on the porch. She suddenly didn’t care for the quietness of the house. She had wanted to call her children and ask them to come down for the weekend, but she didn’t dare to. They were so busy. And probably still angry with her. She knew they thought she was framing their dad. They didn’t believe her story.

  Hopefully, they’ll come around.

  Nancy found a patio chair and sat down with a deep sigh. The air felt fresh. A cold spell was going to cover the state tomorrow, and the wind had already started to blow from the north. She loved those temperature drops that came like a friend in the night and left the air fresh and crisp for a couple of days.

  Nancy took a deep breath and filled her lungs with the clean air.

  It felt so good finally to be home.

  As she smiled at the thought, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the display, then almost dropped it again. She stared at the words on the screen, heart pounding in her chest.

  YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE DONE THAT

  Chapter 43

  I was rushing down the street, stepping on the accelerator, and making it through the intersection on a yellow light. Alex’s toy truck on the passenger seat fell to the floor with a thud and landed in the old Five Guys’ bag from three days ago. I really ought to clean up my car one of these days, I thought to myself.

  But not today.

  What Roberts had shown me kept rolling over in my mind. I couldn’t believe my own eyes as I saw the report. I wasn’t sure what to think anymore.

  Matt’s car was in the driveway as I drove up and parked. It was late now, but not so late that he would tell me to wait until tomorrow. I couldn’t wait. I had to tell him about the report. I had to push through this awful feeling inside of me and talk to him. As I got out, I wondered if I should have texted him that I was on my way. I hadn’t done that since I didn’t want him to tell me to stay away. I didn’t want him to tell me I could just tell him via text, that there was no need to talk face to face.

  I wanted to see him. I wanted to look into his eyes and see if he really hated me so much, like it had seemed when he said those awful things, or if there was still some love left in them.

  Maybe we can mend the broken pieces? Maybe we can somehow find our way back? Please, Matt, please, be gentle with my heart.

  I took a deep breath to calm down the jitters in my stomach, then knocked on the door.

  There was a noise from the other side, and I prepared myself to look into his eyes again, hoping that it wouldn’t feel weird or uncomfortable. The door swung open, and I opened my mouth to speak.

  “Matt…I…”

  Then I stopped. It wasn’t Matt who had opened it. It was someone else.

  A woman.

  She smiled. She was wearing a tank top showing a lot of skin.

  “Yes? Who are you?” she chirped.

  A surprised voice came up behind her, and I saw Matt’s face. His hair was a mess, his eyes branded with shame.

  “E-Eva Rae?”

  Realizing that Matt knew me, the woman walked back inside and let Matt come to the door. He paused. I could hear his breathing. It was quick and shallow.

  “W-what are you doing here?”

  There was a different quality to his voice now. It became haunted, saturated with guilt.

  “I didn’t know you were coming over?”

  I blinked, pressing back tears. “I see that.”

  My voice was cracking, so I stopped talking. I didn’t want him to hear how upset I was, how deeply he had hurt me.

  “Oh, no, Eva Rae, you…why didn’t you call before you came over?”

  “Oh, I see. How unthoughtful of me,” I said, taking a step back, away from him. I couldn’t deal with this right now, with him or us, if there were an “us” left. “I am so sorry that I didn’t call or text you first.”

  “Argh, you’re so…you’re so…” he said. His voice was cold, almost angry now. Tears were stinging in the back of my eyes. I wouldn’t be able to hold them back much longer.

  “Lorraine is…”

  I lifted my eyebrows. “Lorraine, huh?”

  “Eva Rae, listen…I…we were having a fight and…you were angry with me. I thought we were over…”

  So, that’s why he hasn’t called.

  I shook my head. “And you just moved on, huh? She’s definitely pretty. And it doesn’t look like she eats much junk food either. She doesn’t have any fat on that body; that’s for sure. And we all know how much you dislike that, huh?”

  “Eva Rae, don’t be mad, please?”

  My stomach was a hard ball by now. The knot in my throat was threatening to explode. I couldn’t let him see it. I had suffered big enough of a defeat tonight. He wasn’t having this as well.

  “I should…I should probably…go.”

  “Why do you always have to be like this?” Matt yelled after me.

  I turned around and hurried to the car. Matt called my name, but I didn’t stop. I backed out of the driveway, swung the car into the street, then took off, biting back tears along with what was left of my pride.

  Chapter 44

  The bottle was already almost empty, and Nancy didn’t understand how that could have happened. She had opened the white wine just a short while ago. Could she have emptied it already?

  She lifted it and put it up in the light coming from inside her living room. She was sitting out on the porch overlooking the Indian River. The No-See-Ums were biting, but she barely noticed anymore.

  She poured the last drops into her glass then drank them before placing the glass on the small round patio table. She was drunk now, no doubt about it. Her head was spinning and buzzing, competing with the cicadas sitting in the trees around her. Charles had let them grow too big, she thought. They blocked the view—especially the old magnolia at the end of the yard. It needed trimming.

  Nancy would see to it.

  She stared at her phone and the text she had received earlier. They didn’t scare her with their little texts. She wasn’t afraid, not after what she had been through. But the words did hurt her.

  Nancy sighed, then leaned back in the rocking chair, closing her eyes, breathing in the moist air. Being back didn’t fill her with as much joy as she had expected. The house was different somehow now. It felt different.

  Perhaps Tanya is right? The house no longer belongs to me?

  Maybe she should sell it. Make a good sum, and then just take off. Get out of this awful place? Buy a cute house in the Smokey Mountains?

  Nancy shook her head. She had finally succeeded in getting her house back. It seemed silly to give up just like that.

  Give it time, Nancy. Give it time.

  She opened her eyes and looked at the empty bottle. Her head was going to hurt tomorrow, yet she still wanted more. She rose to her feet and walked to the kitchen. She had put several bottles in the fridge and pulled out another one. She popped it open, then poured herself another glass. She gulped it down almost in one sip, then poured herself some more. She closed the fridge, then staggered with the bottle in her hand, the glass in the other, through the kitchen.

  As she kicked the door open and walked through to the living room, she saw the shadowy figure standing by the back door. She squinted her eyes to make sure he was really there. He was wearing a hoodie, so she couldn’t see his face.

  “What do you want?” she asked. Her voice was slurred. She could hear it herself. That’s how bad it was.

  The gun in his hand startled her, and she dropped the bottle. It fell to the tiles but didn’t shatter. Wine gushed out on her feet.

  “Please,” she said.

  “I told you not to do what you did,” the voice said. “I warned you. I don’t want to hurt you, but you leave me no choice.”

  The voice sounded ragged and in distress. Nancy stared at the gun, then shook her head and walked backward.

  “Why did you come back?” the voice said. “Why?”

  “This is my house,” Nancy said. “You have no right to come here and…and…”

  The shadow stepped closer, the gun shaking in their hand. It was cocked, and Nancy could barely breathe. She looked toward the door, then wondered if she would be able to make it if she sprang for it.

  She didn’t think about it twice. She started to run, dropping the glass in her other hand, and just took off, sprinting.

  Chapter 45

  I was speeding while listening to Panic at the Disco, turning the volume up high. I was singing but might also have been screaming while driving over the bridge toward Merritt Island.

  “Lorraine? Matt? Lorraine? Really?”

  I was crushed. I hadn’t realized that we were this bad off. I thought we had a fight. A serious one, yes, one that had ended up hurting us both. But we weren’t in a place where we couldn’t mend the broken pieces. Not in my opinion. But, apparently, to Matt, we were all over? We were so far out we couldn’t fix it?

  And just like that, he had moved on? How did anyone do that this fast?

  I stopped at a red light when reaching the island, then touched my stomach gently. How were we going to manage to be parents with everything that was going on? My ex-husband had cheated on me and left me for another woman. Was that what Matt had done here? Cheated on me? Did it count as cheating? In my book, it did. We had a fight. We hadn’t ended things or been on a break like Ross and Rachel in Friends. This was clear in my mind, but apparently not in his?

  Why are you making excuses for him?

  If there was one thing I had no tolerance for, it was men who cheated on me. That was the end of it. Matt and I were through as of this evening; we were no longer a couple. Then we’d have to figure out how to deal with the baby and how to share custody. I didn’t want my child to grow up without a father. I had three who were doing just that after their dad died, and it broke my heart to see how much they missed him—especially Alex, who was so young, and who needed a male role model in his life.

  I drove up South Tropical Trail. The road in front of me was dark, and the Spanish Moss hanging from the trees covering the road looked like fingers reaching for me. I cried but kept pushing it back. I didn’t want to cry over him. I didn’t want to think about how it could have been. Nagging guilt kept creeping into my mind, telling me it was my fault, that I pushed him away. If only I had let him propose in his own timing. If only I hadn’t jumped the gun the way I did and ruined everything.

  I drove past the small white Georgianna church that marked the beginning of Old Settlement Road. It had fresh flowers on the porch. I drove past Mrs. Berkeley’s house and stopped across the street from it, by the Henrys’ house that now belonged to Nancy. I stared at Mrs. Berkeley’s empty windows and the crime scene tape, then felt such deep sadness. The poor woman. Then I wondered for a second about the shot she had heard the night that Nancy disappeared. I still couldn’t figure out where that bullet had gone. Who fired a gun and then cleaned up after themself? Was it Charles? It had to have been, right?

  Then I thought about the information Roberts had given me earlier in the day. Something was way off in this story, and I couldn’t really get to the bottom of it. I hoped Nancy could help me do just that. I had also hoped that Matt would be by my side when I confronted her with it, but that’s not how it was going to be.