Unless… I glance at my aunt’s slumbering form. Had she unlocked it the day Lizzie had skipped her meds? Has she done this deliberately to thwart me after all these years of pretending to be on my side?
The anger is a slow burn. It doesn’t come in a rush. It starts in the pit of my stomach and spreads outward, inch by inch, until I’m burning up.
I need to get out of here before I do something I’ll never be able to explain away.
I run from the room, from the house, and it’s only when I’m outside taking great heaving breaths to ease the constriction of my chest do I realize I forgot to lock Alice’s door.
Then again, who cares? The best outcome for me is if she stumbles out of that room, gets lost, and walks off the edge of the cliff.
The cliffs… they’ve always been a draw for Brooke and me. It’s our go-to place where we do our best thinking. Her bedroom door had been open as I’d run from the house, the room empty. If she’s read Aunt Alice’s diary, I bet she’s in shock and what better place to think than our cliff?
I jog as I follow the path leading to the back of our property. My lungs tighten as I break into a sprint and I’m panting by the time I catch sight of her. She has her back to me. It would be so easy to run at her and push…
I stumble over a rock and stub my toe. I’m always clumsy near the cliffs. A curse spills from my lips before I can stop it. She hears me, and turns, and in the wan light from a half-moon she looks like a demon.
She’s mad. Her shoulders are rigid, her back ramrod straight, her hands clenched into fists. There’s no doubt: she’s read the journal.
“Thought I might find you here,” I drawl, needing to play for time so I can gauge what she’s going to do. “Been snooping, Sis?”
I half expect her to come at me, there’s so much hatred in her eyes. Instead, she shrugs. “Aunt Alice’s diary made for interesting reading, if that’s what you mean.”
I snort. “She’s delusional. I don’t know what she’s written in that thing but it’s probably all invented.”
“Really? So the fact she gave you my baby is a lie?”
I try not to react but I can’t help taking a step toward her. It’s the tell she’s waiting for, her grin smug.
“Apparently you wanted to be like me so much you thought you’d steal my baby?”
I grit my teeth to stop from responding, but I’ve waited my whole life to tell her exactly what I think of her. I can’t resist.
“I never stole anything. It was Aunt Alice’s idea. She came to me and laid it all out, how bad she felt when our mom adopted out Lizzie and she didn’t want the same thing happening to your baby. So I went along with it. I’d go into hiding too, when the baby was born she’d tell you it had died to stop you hunting for it later, and I’d raise it.”
“Hope’s not an it!” she yells, her mouth twisting with fury. “She’s my baby and you stole her.”
“You gave her away.” The anger is building and I let it come. I welcome it. I embrace it. “You never deserved her, like you never deserved Eli.” She blanches and I take another step forward, determined to make her suffer, like all those years I suffered growing up in her shadow. “I loved him a hell of a lot more than you and I would’ve never treated him the way you did on the night of the party.”
I jab a finger in her direction. “You broke his heart with your slutty behavior that night and luckily I was there to pick up the pieces. He needed me. He wanted me…”
Until he didn’t, and that moment of rejection is something I’ll have to live with forever.
“What did you do?”
Brooke’s tone is flat, brittle, and I’m surprised by her question. She hasn’t asked what I meant. It’s almost as if she knows… but she can’t. Nobody does. Aunt Alice suspected but she was too gutless to ask the question because she knew she wouldn’t like the answer.
But I’m done hiding. Because I know how tonight will end. I’ve known it from the moment I spotted Brooke out here. People are going to say she couldn’t handle the stress of being back here, that she wanted to join her beloved in the same way.
It’s the only possible outcome.
“Eli came back to the party and I comforted him, but it wasn’t enough so when he left I followed him.” I point to the left. “He actually walked almost all the way back here, obviously with the intention of begging you to take him back. I couldn’t let that happen so I took my chance.”
I remember the night so clearly, the night I lost the love of my life. Aunt Alice once said something similar happened to her and it didn’t register until I had to go through the same gut-wrenching agony of losing Eli.
“I told him the truth, that I loved him, that he could be with me because you weren’t worth it. I tried to kiss him, but he pushed me away. That made me mad…”
“You killed him,” Brooke whispers, taking a step back. Good, one step closer to the edge. “He didn’t jump because of me.”
“Not everything’s about you,” I sneer. “Great deduction though. No, he didn’t jump. I came at him again and when he pushed me away I fought back. He was drunk, I wasn’t, so when he lost his balance…” I make a swooping action from high to low with my hand. “I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident.”
“Bullshit.” Her eyes glow in the darkness. “Even when he lost me he still didn’t want you, so you pushed him.”
I shrug, my calm infuriating her more by the way she starts shifting her weight from side to side. “I might’ve, I don’t remember.”
“You’re a liar,” she hisses, placing her hands on her hips like she’s some kind of avenging angel. “But you know what, Sis? You’re not the only one who lies.”
I falter, unsure what she means.
“Remember when I said Riker and I barely spoke at that party?”
I hear a dull roaring in my ears. “Yeah, he said it too.”
“We both lied.”
She’s triumphant, her shoulders squared, lording her secret over me until I can barely see straight.
“We had sex that night,” she says, emotionless, her grin a leer, as the roar intensifies, deafening me to everything but her cutting words cleaving me in two. “I felt guilty so I came clean to Eli. He went ballistic and started calling me some nasty names I probably deserved so I broke up with him.”
“You lying bitch—”
“Now, now, Sis, that’s a severe case of pots and kettles, don’t you think?”
I take three steps toward her. I’m almost close enough to shove her.
She doesn’t flinch. “Want to know the best part?”
My skin prickles with dread, electricity lighting every one of my cells with incandescent rage.
“Remember when I first discovered I was pregnant and told Aunt Alice I took a test because I’d had a pregnancy scare with Eli and had a spare one lying around?”
I can barely nod I’m trembling so hard, fury warring with fear.
“I lied.” She leans forward, her grin taunting me. “Riker took my virginity.”
The truth crashes over me in a sickening wave as I relinquish the tenuous control on my rage. It floods me, lending me speed, lending me strength, as I lunge at her. She screams and tries to sidestep, but I’m too fast. We grapple and she screams again as I pull her hair, snapping her head back so hard I hear a crack.
We shuffle toward the edge, the guard rope no match for two women hell-bent on destroying each other.
“I’m going to end you, just like I ended your pathetic boyfriend, and then I’m going to marry Riker and raise your daughter.”
It’s my turn to grin as she slips, but I realize my mistake a fraction too late.
Somehow Riker is there, and I’m not sure if he’s trying to save me or push me, my momentum carrying me forward as Brooke slides under me, and then I’m falling…
Seventy-Six
Brooke
The scream as Freya falls fades as I cover my ears. I lie on my back on the hard ground and rock from side t
o side, wishing I could eradicate the memory of what just happened.
I didn’t push her. I was tempted; there’d been a moment as she’d first lunged at me when I wanted to sidestep and send her plummeting with a shove in her back. I wanted to reclaim the life she stole from me.
Ironically, now I can, but who’s going to believe she jumped? Freya has a daughter, a fiancé, and is about to be married. Nobody is going to believe she committed suicide. And poor Hope, having to live with the stigma, having to learn the truth from me…
I squeeze my eyes shut and continue rocking, reaching for answers that aren’t there, when two hands grab me. My eyes fly open to see Riker squatting next to me, concern etched into his face.
“Are you okay?”
“Not really. Freya…” I choke up and he helps me into a sitting position.
“I tried to stop her. It wasn’t your fault.”
“You did?”
He nods. “Yeah, I saw you two fighting and I started running toward you but as I reached out to grab her she’d already gone over.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe she’s so unhinged.”
I’m not sure if he means by what just happened or in general. He reached us too late, which means he didn’t hear what I revealed to push Freya to the edge.
I have to tell him.
I have to tell him I drove her to it deliberately.
How I left that laptop open for her to find, knowing she’d be driven to drastic measures to keep her secrets.
That I knew she’d go searching for me out here when I wasn’t in the house.
That I taunted her with the one thing guaranteed to drive her crazy.
It had worked, too. Discovering Riker is Hope’s father pushed her over the edge; literally. I’ve achieved what I set out to do.
Get rid of my lunatic sister so she’s never near my daughter again.
I want to tell Riker the truth. About Hope’s paternity, about everything. But shock is setting in. I see it in his eyes, in the blankness of his expression, in the slackness of his mouth. He just watched the woman he loves plunge to her death. Now is definitely not the time for him to learn he’s Hope’s father.
“We need to call the police,” I say, as he holds out his hand and helps me stand. “I need to tell them the truth.”
His gaze locks onto mine. “And what’s that?”
“Exactly what happened—”
“No.” His lips compress and he shakes his head. “Hope needs you now more than ever. You can’t be dragged through an investigation, possibly facing a manslaughter charge, or worse.”
He grips my upper arms so tight I wince and he eases his grasp. “We tell them Freya’s been under a lot of pressure, what with your aunt and the wedding. We tell them I said I needed more time and I wanted to call it off. Then you found her tonight… down there…”
I don’t want to lie. I’ve had enough of them to last a lifetime.
But he’s right. Hope’s going to be distraught losing Freya. She’ll need Lizzie and me to get her through this. And when it comes time to tell her the truth about our real bond, I want her to trust me and love me enough that it’s a shock I can help her adjust to.
“Brooke, you know it’s the only way.”
I’m so sick of this family and its secrets, but as I stare into his eyes, willing me to trust him, I give in.
Freya killed Eli.
She poisoned Aunt Alice.
She stole Hope.
She would’ve killed me.
She doesn’t deserve to have control over what happens to me from beyond the grave, so I’ll do what Riker says. I’ll do what the women in this family do best.
I’ll lie.
Seventy-Seven
Brooke
Most of Martino Bay turns out for the funeral of one of their beloved. If the eulogy didn’t paint Freya out to be a saint, the many well-wishers who offer me condolences leave me in little doubt. Her countless hours volunteering, her tender nursing care for the elderly, her hands-on mothering, nobody has a bad word to say.
And Riker, Lizzie and I stand there, accepting and grateful, when we knew a different side to the lauded Freya.
It may be hypocritical but I actually shed a tear. I loved my sister once. We were close. I included her in everything, in my circle of friends, in my hobbies. We loved choc-chip cookies and sunbathing in the backyard and reality TV. We caught the school bus together, we did our homework together at the library, we were closer than most siblings.
She repaid me by stealing my daughter.
Aunt Alice has filled in some of the blanks. Many of her memories have returned now she’s off the meds. Dr. Hesham thinks it’s unlikely she has early onset dementia and that with time she may make a full recovery. I’m not so sure.
There’s an emptiness in Aunt Alice now, a vacancy behind her eyes. She remembers the past and how much Freya coveted everything I had, how she resented me, how her ‘moods’ as we called them occasionally erupted into uncontrollable rages. I think she blames herself. I feel sorry for Aunt Alice, but I don’t know if I can ever forgive her for what she did.
I’m not sure if Lizzie believes Riker and me. After all, she’s lived with Freya a lot longer than I have and our sister never demonstrated suicidal tendencies before. But she wants to do right by Hope too and I’ll tell Lizzie the truth once the furor dies down.
After the graveside ceremony everyone comes to our house for the wake. Toasts are made, sandwiches are eaten, tears are shed and then it’s finally, finally, over as I stand in the sunroom, staring toward the cliffs, hating all they signify.
When the last person has left, a doddering old doctor who apparently diagnosed Aunt Alice in the first place, I go in search of Hope. She’s in her room, lying on her side on top of the bed covers, her gaze fixed on the solar system she created.
“Is it okay if I come in, honey?”
She nods and my heart breaks as I glimpse the tear tracks staining her cheeks. I sit on the side of the bed and place my hand on her waist. “We’re so proud of you today.”
Another tear slides out of the corner of her eye and she doesn’t respond for a long time. “Why?”
“Because you were brave. It’s hard losing someone we love.” I stroke her hair, offering scant comfort but it’s the best I can do for now. “And I want you to know I’m here for you whenever you need me, okay?”
Her eyes seek mine. “You’re not leaving?”
“No, sweetie, I’m never leaving you again.”
She perks up at that and pushes into a sitting position. “Really?”
“I’m here for you, forever.”
When she flings herself at me and I hold her tight, I know I’ve done the right thing in perpetuating the lie Freya killed herself.
It’s the only way I get to make amends, and that’s raise my daughter.
We both cry a little and when she’s done I lower her to the pillow. “Want me to bring you in a hot cocoa with extra marshmallows?”
“Yes, please.” Her smile is watery but it’s a smile just the same and my heart expands with love.
“Be right back.” I press a kiss to her forehead and leave the room, closing the door behind me.
As I enter the kitchen to heat up the milk, Riker’s there, pacing from one end to the other.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, long day.” He grimaces and runs a hand through his hair, sending it spiking in all directions. “How’s Hope?”
“Coping better than I expected. She’s a fighter.”
He eyeballs me. “Just like her mom.”
His stare is intense, unambiguous, and in that instant I realize he knows.
“How did you know?”
“The moment I laid eyes on Hope I knew she was mine,” he says, his tone gruff. “She’s the spitting image of my sister. The resemblance is uncanny.”
“When was that?”
“About eight months ago. I was selling a few pieces at the local market when they came by m
y stall and I swear my heart stopped when I saw Hope. Freya was with her, so we started chatting. I had to know more so I asked her out, then on our first date I found out Freya was your sister.”
He taps his head. “It blew my mind, because with Hope’s resemblance to Kel, I wondered if you’d had my kid, dumped it on your family and done a runner. So I cozied up to her to find out more.”
I’m stunned. He’s known from the beginning?
“It didn’t take long for me to figure out that’s not what happened, that for some inexplicable reason Freya was passing Hope off as her kid.” His nose screws up. “I’ve never been completely comfortable around Freya. She had this way of putting on a front when I could tell she felt entirely different on the inside, and she never wanted to talk about you. I asked her once and she got really upset. That was our first argument. And I didn’t like the way she talked to your aunt sometimes, like she had something over her, which I guess she did, considering they were passing off Hope as hers. So I decided to stick around.”
Still reeling from his revelation, I shake my head. “Is that why you proposed?”
He nods, sheepish. “I got a paternity test done with one of those online companies, using hair from Hope’s brush. Once it was confirmed I’m her father, I knew I couldn’t leave her. I didn’t love Freya but I was willing to do whatever it took to keep my daughter safe and if that meant marrying your sister, so be it. And when Alice suggested inviting you to the wedding and Freya freaked out, I knew I had to talk to you and see what the story was.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I didn’t know if I could trust you either.” He holds his hands out, palms up, like he’s got nothing to hide. “For all I knew handing Hope off to your sister was what you wanted and I didn’t want to tip you off until I knew more.”
“This is nuts.”
I press my fingertips to my temples. It does little to alleviate the pressure building in my head.
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