“Like it would have made a difference?”
It was then that Allie realized the depth of her sister’s hatred. Since they were children, Emma had been adding up her sister’s alleged offenses and marking each of them unforgivable, etched in cold, hard stone.
Allie thought fast. She wanted to keep Emma talking. Making her angry wasn’t helping. “Think about it. After that, there was never another mean word or smart remark. Never. I almost lost you. My sister. And it changed me. Don’t you see that?”
“No.”
“So, all of those days you came to Arrendale. What was that about?” Allie asked.
Her sister turned her head, concentrating on a speck of dust, and shrugged.
“What about Caroline?” Allie demanded. “She never visited after the first few times. Was that you or was that my daughter? Did you tell her not to come?”
Emma shifted her jaw from side to side, considering the question. She wouldn’t meet Allie’s eyes.
“Let me guess. You told her it was a bad idea. That it might upset her? That she might feel worse after seeing me?” Though she felt like dying inside, Allie fought to keep her voice calm. “You sent me that adoption information. You talked to Natalie about it. My boss. How could you, Emma?”
“She wants me to adopt her. She said it,” her sister snapped.
Allie gasped. “She’s my child, Emma. I’ll need to hear that from her.” She was breathing hard, as if she’d just finished sprinting three miles. “What gives you the right to judge me?”
“A jury—” Emma lifted her head.
“You’re not on a jury. You’re family. You’re my sister.” Allie lowered her voice.
“Can’t choose your family,” Emma quipped, her bottom lip thrust out.
Caught up in the argument, Allie didn’t hear the rumble of an engine until the Glynn County Sheriff’s car was several yards away. She whirled to see Gaines exiting the vehicle, a gun pointed at her chest.
FIFTY-NINE
CAROLINE
2016
“Oh my goodness.” Caroline sat straight up in the passenger’s seat. At the edge of the woods, Russell pulled to the left side of the road, behind the thickest row of trees just before the clearing.
“Whose cars?” Russell shot her a worried look, turned the key, and pulled it out of the ignition. The last thing they needed to do was draw attention to themselves.
“I think I saw Emma’s,” Caroline whispered.
“Let’s go see.” Russell eased open the door and slid outside, beckoning for Caroline to do the same.
They crept to the nearest oak, hiding behind the thick trunk. Three cars were parked around the most run down shack she’d ever seen. Caroline squinted, gripping the bark, her voice quavering. “That’s Grandma Lily’s car, Emma’s car, and—” She turned to Russell, raising an eyebrow.
“Yep, that’s the sheriff’s car,” Russell said, lowering his voice.
“What are they all doing here?” she whispered. “Maybe you should call your mom and dad?”
Russell nodded and dug in his pocket for his cell phone. Glancing at the screen, he frowned. “I’ve got, like, one bar.”
Caroline swallowed hard.
There was a loud wooden creak and the sound of boots on stairs.
Russell yanked Caroline back, pulling her into a crouch. Through the bushes, she could see the sheriff behind her mother and Emma, pointing his gun. She stifled a cry.
“He’s going to take them somewhere,” Caroline hissed at Russell. “He’ll see us. He’ll see the car.” Her pulse thudded so loudly she could barely hear his response.
“Just wait,” he murmured, holding his finger over his lips as he leaned forward to get a better view.
As quietly as she could, Caroline moved in closer to Russell, keeping her eyes glued on the sheriff, her mother, and her aunt.
But instead of forcing the women into the patrol car, Gaines popped the trunk, took out two cans of gasoline, and handed one to Emma and one to Allie. He barked some orders and gestured with the handgun.
With a furtive glance at each other, Emma and Allie began spreading the liquid around the structure, soaking the walls and grass.
“Oh no,” Russell said, balling his hands into fists. “What the hell?”
Caroline couldn’t move. The scent of rotten eggs filled the air as her mom poured the gasoline on the steps and Emma sloshed it against the shack, Gaines’s gaze never leaving them.
When he seemed satisfied that there wasn’t another drop left in the cans, grim-faced, Gaines took out a lighter.
“Don’t do this,” Allie called to him. “You don’t have to do this.”
“You got out of prison and ruined my life.” He raised his voice. “Ten years ago, Coach died. Now my wife is gone.” He let out an anguished cry. “I don’t have anything to live for.”
“But you do,” Allie argued with a glance at Emma.
“No,” Gaines shot back. “Don’t play games with me.”
Caroline peered through the leaves and could see her mother’s lips pressed tightly together. Why wasn’t Emma saying anything? Why wasn’t she helping? Her aunt’s face had turned ghostly white. Emma’s usually bright eyes were clouded over.
“A whole county voted you into office,” Allied added. “The people elected you.”
“You don’t care,” Gaines snapped back. “You hate me.”
“You destroyed my life.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I was going to medical school. I was ready to work hard and save lives. I had my daughter to take care of.”
Caroline was so consumed with the exchange that Russell had to take her hand and squeeze it to get her attention. He pointed at his phone and mouthed 9-1-1. Russell typed a message, hit Send, then turned the screen so that Caroline could see. The text was to Natalie, with the address, a mention of Gaines, Emma, Allie, and the gun, and CALL 9-1-1.
“We’ve been through all of this before, haven’t we, Sheriff?” Allie said.
Caroline stiffened. What was her mother talking about?
“Paying personal visits to people at all hours of the night. Making accusations when, in fact, you’re equally culpable for everything that happened,” Allie added.
“That’s bull,” the sheriff blustered. “This”—he waved at the cabin—“all of this was not my idea.”
“But you didn’t end it, did you?” Allie replied, standing up as straight as she could. “You fanned the fire. You took my editorial—about this place, about Coach Thomas beating those boys—and you acted like I’d accused you of genocide.”
The sheriff stared at Allie. “This ends now,” he growled.
“It could have ended a long time ago,” Allie said. “You could have turned yourself in.”
“What in the hell for?” Gaines snapped. He took a menacing step toward her, then stopped.
“You were there,” Allie retorted. “That night with the coach—”
“No,” Gaines interrupted, “I was never there with the coach until after we found you. Then I took care of June.”
“But you were with him.” Allie turned to Emma. “Isn’t that right? Isn’t that what you said, Emma?”
Caroline squinted. Emma wasn’t moving. Her expression was vacant, like she wasn’t even hearing the conversation.
Exasperated, Allie turned back to Gaines. “You were there when my sister was there. She said you were arguing—”
Gaines cut her off. “If I had been, I never would have let my . . .” His voice broke. “My son die.”
As his voice echoed through the trees, Emma let out a sudden gasp. Allie was shaking her head. And Caroline wasn’t even sure she’d heard the sheriff right. The coach was Sheriff Gaines’s son? How?
“But . . . Boyd . . . Thomas.” Allie murmured the words and looked up at the sheriff. She covered her mouth, eyes blinking widely.
“Boyd was what his mama wanted to call him,” the sheriff replied through gritted teeth. “It’s my given nam
e. Boyd Lee Gaines.”
There was a cry. Caroline whirled to see her aunt’s face crumple.
Allie began to shake visibly. “All of this time.” She raised her voice and turned to face her sister. “All of this time, Emma. You knew what happened that night. You were there, you ran away, and you never once tried to help me.”
As if brought back to life, Emma began to back away.
“How could you?” Allie demanded.
From the corner of her eye, Caroline caught a flash of silver. Emma was holding a knife, pointing it right at Allie.
Gaines leapt forward and grabbed Emma’s hand, forcing the knife from her grasp. Wrapping an arm around Emma’s neck, he refocused the barrel on Allie.
“Don’t you move,” the sheriff said, backing toward the cabin and up the stairs, dragging a kicking and thrashing Emma with him.
In the doorway, Gaines looked like he was gritting his teeth and tightening his grasp on Emma. She scratched at his arms and began to scream.
“Stop it,” the sheriff yelled, driving the butt of his gun into Emma’s skull.
“No!” Allie cried out as her sister slumped like a rag doll, a trickle of blood running down her face.
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Caroline tried to jump up and run to her aunt, but Russell held her back, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “Shh-shh. You can’t,” Russell hissed into her ears. “The police are coming. I promise.”
Gaines waved his gun at Allie. “Enough of this. Put your back to me. Right now. And get on your knees.”
Still shaking, Allie wobbled on her feet. “Don’t. Please. Let us go.”
“Not a chance,” he grunted. “I said, put your back to me. Get down now.”
As Allie turned and sank to her knees, Caroline got to her feet.
The movement caught Allie’s attention. When she looked up and saw her daughter, Allie’s eyes widened. She pressed a finger to her lips, sending Caroline a warning not to move or breathe.
Caroline watched, legs trembling, as the sheriff, with one arm still around Emma’s neck, took out his lighter, flicked his thumb to spark a flame, and tossed it onto the porch steps. The dried wood crackled and caught fire immediately.
Satisfied, Gaines watched the fire dance and grow around the shack. Caroline held her breath, praying for the wail of police sirens. Nothing.
As flames licked at the sides of the building, Allie trained her gaze on Caroline, saying a silent I love you as Gaines clicked off the gun’s safety.
“No!” Caroline screamed.
Emma jerked and stirred at the noise, her eyes flickering open as the sheriff zeroed in on his target.
Caroline began to run, full-speed, for the cabin ahead, not caring if she lived or died. Seeing the teenager caused Gaines to hesitate for a half second—just enough time for Emma to knock his hand away as the bullet discharged from the chamber.
With a sharp crack of thunder, everything in Caroline’s world went dark.
EPILOGUE
ALLIE
Almost twelve months after leaving Arrendale, Allie woke without a single nightmare. With a stretch and a yawn, she swung her legs out from under the sheets and stood up. It was early morning, the time of day when the sun first hits the dew-laden grass, making everything look fresh, bright, and new.
It was a time for new beginnings, Allie reminded herself, pulling the curtains open wide and letting the warm rays bathe her face and arms. The house was still. No gurgle of a coffeemaker or hum of the microwave.
Allie smiled and walked toward the kitchen. It was tiny, but airy and white, freshly painted last weekend. She lifted a mug from inside a cabinet and busied herself making breakfast.
She had a full day ahead at the clinic. Natalie was a talented veterinarian and a great boss. They maintained an excellent relationship. Every single day, Allie felt lucky to have been welcomed into her veterinary practice under the strangest of circumstances.
Circumstances that had led her back to Caroline. She was meeting her daughter this morning at Glynn Overlook Park before work. Caroline’s change of heart, a decade in the making, had been wonderful and amazing. A miracle that truly began to take shape the night Emma had saved her life.
After being knocked unconscious by the butt of Gaines’s gun, her sister had woken to the sound of Caroline’s scream. The first thing she saw—the sheriff aiming the barrel in her niece’s direction—caused Emma to react in the only way she could, like a parent protecting her child, a mother who would make the ultimate sacrifice for her daughter.
For that, Allie would be eternally grateful.
When the Coffee County police and paramedics arrived at the coach’s cabin that summer evening, Emma was taken to the hospital for treatment of a concussion and second-degree burns. Upon her recovery and subsequent arrest, a psychiatric evaluation was performed, deeming Emma fit to be held in police custody. She would eventually stand trial for the death of Coach Boyd Thomas and the murder of Dr. June Gaines.
For months to follow, the town remained in an uproar, the media zeroing in on every new detail revealed about the case.
The law enforcement investigators confirmed that Boyd was indeed the baby Lee Gaines had fathered out of wedlock. The sheriff had met the boy’s mother in Atlanta after a high school bowl game victory, expecting never to see her again. The child was barely a toddler when his mother died from cancer. He’d been Boyd Scott then.
After bouncing through foster care, the little towheaded boy had been adopted, and the parents changed his surname to match theirs.
Over the years, Gaines had kept track of the boy, following his high school career, then college, reaching out to him as he began coaching, citing a fondness for a former colleague who’d worked at his first school in Alabama. The men eventually become close friends.
Years later, Sheriff Boyd Lee Gaines made sure that his son returned home.
The night at the cabin, stricken by panic and grief, rather than allowing the authorities to take him alive, the sheriff had allowed the fire he’d set with his own hands to claim his life. Perhaps, Allie thought, it was his way of reuniting with his wife and son.
The scrutiny and stress caused Allie and her parents to transfer Caroline immediately to a new school for a fresh start. Under advisement from her physician, Caroline also met weekly with a child psychologist to try to make sense of all of the trauma from the past year.
After all, Caroline and Allie had loved Emma deeply. Believed in her, trusted her. And Emma had betrayed both mother and daughter in the worst possible way.
Perhaps the cruelest blow came when the investigators handling Emma’s case explained to Allie that had her sister only come forward after her trip to the hospital, she could have claimed self-defense, making it unlikely either woman would ever have to serve prison time.
The shock was almost too much to bear. Allie took a brief leave of absence from Natalie’s office, spending her days between home, the therapist’s office, and the solitude of St. Simons Island before dawn. On her worst days, she ran for miles along the beachfront roads when the pressure of it all seemed too much.
But that December, after settling into her new school, Caroline accepted the idea of meeting Allie for coffee on Wednesdays. Over the next few months, mother and daughter reconnected at a cautious pace, like drops of rain filling a one-hundred-gallon drum.
In May, Caroline surprised everyone by asking Allie if she could come and live with her on a trial basis. When her own parents endorsed the idea wholeheartedly, Allie could barely contain her enthusiasm. The following week, Caroline buzzed with plans for her new bedroom, describing a funky paint scheme and gauze curtains she’d seen in a magazine. They’d been shopping and had picked out bookshelves, a small desk and chair for schoolwork. She was moving in the next day.
The transition to being mother and daughter again hadn’t been easy or perfect, but Allie savored the moments, her unbridled joy tempered only occasionally with a touch of regret. Ca
roline would leave in a few years, off to college and a career path. Allie knew she would let her go, though it would break her apart inside.
After so much wishing that the years would fly by inside Arrendale, it was a conscious effort, a life shift, for Allie to live in the present, the here and now, counting her blessings after many hard lessons.
Looking back, though Emma’s betrayal was horrifying and surreal, Allie realized that she, too, had lost her way. She had been so focused on fighting a fight she couldn’t win, on proving the impossible to a community who loved its football coach, that she’d lost sight of what was truly important—her family, her child, and her future.
The painful truth, that sharp realization, allowed Allie the first steps toward hope and healing. Toward true forgiveness.
Without it, the past would chain Allie to a dark place, a prison of her own making, with cell walls built of guilt, remorse, and regret. Without forgiveness—for Emma and herself—Allie would never be happy or whole. She could never be the mother she needed to be for Caroline.
Every day, Allie chose forgiveness.
Every day, she chose freedom.
Allie and Caroline made their way near the edge of the saltmarsh, watching for egrets and herons perching near the edges of the tall grass. The air, scented with morning dew and warm earth, tickled Allie’s nose. Palm tree fronds rustled in the breeze as the sky glowed first silver, then pink and lavender as the sun rose, waking Brunswick from slumber.
“So I need to tell you something,” said Caroline. Her daughter was giving off a serious vibe, which made the back of Allie’s neck prickle with worry.
“Sure, anything,” Allie replied, flashing a grin. She reminded herself that whatever happened in the future, it would be all right. She could handle it.
“So, Ben came to Grandma Lily’s house a couple of months ago.” Caroline tilted her head to one side. “He said if there was anything I needed, to just ask. And he wanted to know if you were okay.”
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