The Last Time I Saw You

by Liv Constantine

  When she finally got Kate outside and into the yard, Blaire dropped her hands and began CPR. Blaire’s wrist was bleeding where a shard of glass had made a deep cut.

  Surprised to see a police car pull up the driveway, she stood, waving her hands. As the two officers ran to her, she yelled out, “Call the fire department! Hurry, she’s passed out. I think she’s inhaled too much smoke.”

  One of the officers knelt down next to Kate and checked her breathing. The other one looked at Blaire. “What happened here?”

  “I don’t know how it started. I got home, and the house was on fire! I ran in and found her. Thank God I got back in time! When I walked in the house, the flames had almost reached the hallway.”

  “It’s a lucky thing you did,” the officer said.

  Kate still hadn’t come to. Suddenly Blaire was seized with panic. What had she done? What if Kate didn’t make it?

  Minutes later she heard the wail of the fire-truck sirens approaching.

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  29

  When Kate opened her eyes, her father was standing over her. She blinked, unsure of where she was, and turned her head against the pillow. The strong smell of smoke hit her, and it started to come back. The fire. Blaire saying crazy things. It got hazy after that.

  “Kate,” her father said, the relief obvious in his voice. He sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hand.

  Her body ached, but she sat up as quickly as she could. “Dad, what happened? How did I get here?” She could hear the panic in her own voice.

  “Easy, easy. Calm down.” Her father tried to soothe her. “You’re in the hospital. There was a fire.”

  How long had she been here? “You were all the way at the beach. When did you get back?”

  “You’ve been in and out for the last few hours. I came as soon as Anderson called me.”

  Kate shook her head. “Blaire.” She began to cry.

  Her father held her to him, patting her back, then pulled back to look at her. “Blaire’s okay—she’s resting up on this floor. She pulled you out of the fire, you know.”

  She wanted to push back—she knew she needed to tell him something, but she couldn’t put her thoughts together, and there was something she needed to know first. “Annabelle??”

  “Don’t worry, she’s with Georgina. I called Georgina and asked her to meet me here and take Annabelle while I was with you. I wasn’t sure what kind of shape you’d be in, and if Annabelle would be able to see you. Georgina’s taking her to her house now.”

  “Thank God.” She fell in relief against the pillow and looked at her father. “Is the house gone?” she whispered, her voice hoarse and throat sore.

  “The damage is pretty extensive, but they got the fire out.”

  Kate thought of all the family pictures, notes, and cards from her mother, years and years of memories that might have been lost. At least she and her daughter were safe. That was all that mattered.

  “Kate,” her father said gently. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  She told him as much as she could remember, watching as his face grew redder and his brow more furrowed. Suddenly he sprang from the edge of the bed.

  “She thinks Mother is her mother.” She waited for the look of shock on her father’s face, but saw something else instead. “Dad, did you hear me? She thinks Mother gave her up for adoption before you were married.”

  He looked away, his face white, and then shook his head. “I didn’t know she was the baby,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  His eyes turned slowly to Kate, filled with sorrow. “Kate, you wanted to know what your mother and I argued about the day she died.” He stood now, pacing in the small cubicle, finally stopping and sitting again. “She told me that she’d slept with someone else. Just once. One night while we were engaged, and I was in medical school in California. That she’d had a child and given it up. That’s what we were yelling about. She wouldn’t tell me who the father was, or anything else about the child. She said she needed to talk to the other parties first.” His face was red now, and he balled his hands into fists. “I didn’t want you to know. To have your mother’s memory tainted. I was furious.” He paused and took her hand. “I still am, but what’s worse is that I can’t forgive myself for the fact that the last words I spoke to your mother were angry and cruel.”

  It couldn’t be true! Her mother had had a one-night stand? There had to be more to the story. But now, with what Blaire was saying . . . there must be some truth to the story somewhere.

  “The father could be the one who killed her. Have you thought of that?” Kate asked him. “How could you hold this information back from the police?”

  He shook his head. “I told them. But Lily promised me I was the only one who knew. She was going to tell me who the father was. She said she wanted to wait until I had calmed down more.”

  “So that must have been why she wanted to change her will. To include Blaire.” It all made sense suddenly.

  Harrison nodded. “It must have been.”

  She lay back again and closed her eyes, suddenly spent. Exhaustion overtook her, and as the sound of voices and hum of machines drifted into the cubicle, she found herself dozing off.

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  HarperCollinsPublishers

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  30

  Blaire was waiting for the doctor to release her. It was all so unfair. Kate was going to make her look like the bad guy once again. She thought back to the last time she’d been in a hospital bed, after the night that had changed everything. Carter had had to get a passed-out Jake in the back, and Blaire had insisted that Kate let her drive, given that she was the only sober one. Carter got in the passenger seat, while Kate crawled into the back with her boyfriend. It was raining, and they were on one of the dark country roads. Blaire had turned off the radio so she could focus better. Kate was having none of it. She’d leaned up from the back seat, fumbling with the radio dial until she turned it on again.

  “Come on, I like that song,” she slurred.

  Blaire pushed her hand away. “Kate, cut it out. I’m trying to concentrate.”

  But Kate persisted. She turned the knob again, and the music blared. Kate was singing at the top of her lungs. Looking down, Blaire tried to find the button to turn the radio off, but the car was unfamiliar. When she looked back up, a pickup truck was careening toward them. She could still see the blinding lights from the truck. The sound of screeching wheels and crashing metal was the last thing Blaire heard before waking up at this same hospital. She’d appeared relatively unscathed, some scratches and bruises but nothing else, but still they’d insisted on examining her.

  Jake had been pronounced dead at the scene.

  Carter had broken an arm.

  Kate didn’t have a scratch.

  The authorities determined that the other driver was at fault, with an alcohol level twice the legal limit. Blaire remembered the guilt that had gnawed at Kate afterward, the guilt that kept telling her Blaire might have been able to get out of the way if Kate hadn’t distracted her.

  It hadn’t been until two days later that the bleeding started. No one but Carter had known Blaire was pregnant, and they had planned to elope before Christmas. Blaire had desperately wanted to confide in Kate when she found out, but Carter had begged her not to say anything until they were married, for fear word might reach his family if the news got out. His mother would have eventually accepted Blaire, especially when she gave her a grandchild.

  When the bleeding got worse, she’d called Carter, and he’d taken her to a clinic in Philadelphia, somewhere they knew no one would see them. A kindly doctor told her that she was hemorrhaging. The accident had caused a miscarriage. She’d lost their baby and gone back to school, no one the wiser. Then he’d called her and broken it off. Maybe if sh
e’d called the clinic when the fever started and gotten antibiotics, things would have been different. Instead, ten years later, she sat in a Manhattan fertility clinic while a doctor told her that the ensuing infection had scarred her uterus and closed both fallopian tubes. There was no way she could conceive or carry a child.

  She and Daniel “tried” for three more years before he began pestering her to adopt. The last thing she wanted was to take care of someone else’s child. But he was relentless, finally giving her an ultimatum: either say goodbye to Daniel and the life they had built together, or find a way to start a family. He couldn’t leave her, take away her livelihood, take his wonderful family away from her.

  Blaire was finished being left. Shaina had left her. Her father had chosen Enid over her. Carter had left her. And Kate, her best friend, her actual sister, had left her for Simon, replaced her with Selby, and Lily had been forced to take Kate’s side. Because of Kate, she’d lost Lily forever, and she’d lost any chance of having a family of her own. And now, Kate didn’t even seem to care that they were sisters. That Annabelle was her niece. Kate had just cut her out of her life—until Lily died. She’d thrown their bond away because of a stupid little fight.

  Leading up to Kate’s August wedding, Blaire had done her best to keep her mouth shut and pretend to be happy for her. She’d gone to all her gown fittings and had thrown her a bachelorette party. She had even refrained from commenting on the fact that they’d had to forgo their usual month at the beach due to wedding planning, even though it was the last summer before they all joined the real world, and Blaire had been looking forward to it for months. Instead, they were stuck in humid Baltimore, working on place settings and party favors. But the kicker had been at the rehearsal dinner, when Selby, newly engaged, had raised her glass to Simon and Kate.

  “Next summer, it will be Carter and me. Think of all the fun the four of us are going to have.”

  Simon smiled. “Carter, thanks so much for putting in a good word for me at Bachman and Druthers. I’m looking forward to starting my internship when we get back from our honeymoon.”

  “Happy to do it,” Carter said, smiling back. “One day we’ll have our own architectural firm. Partners.”

  Selby had looked at Blaire then. “We married folks have to stick together.”

  Simon had laughed. “I have a feeling we’ll be spending lots of time together.”

  Kate had been the only one who noticed Blaire’s discomfort, giving her sympathetic looks throughout the evening, especially while Selby lorded it over Blaire about being together with Carter. Blaire had been seething inside. Selby was going to occupy the space in Kate’s life that rightfully belonged to Blaire. And Simon, that idiot, acting like he belonged when he’d only just come on the scene months before. She’d stewed all through the dinner, and by the time they were back at Lily and Harrison’s that night, she’d been ready to explode.

  By morning, she’d known she had to do something to stop it. Harrison and Lily were upstairs getting dressed, and Kate and Blaire were in the kitchen, making breakfast.

  “You’re making a mistake,” Blaire said.

  Kate whirled around from the refrigerator. “What?”

  “Marrying Simon. He’s not right for you.”

  Kate sighed and came over to the table. “Blaire, please don’t do this. We’re about to get married this afternoon. I know you were skeptical of him at first, but you promised you’d support me.”

  “I’m sorry. But I’m your best friend, and I can’t sit back and say nothing while you ruin your life.”

  Kate’s face had turned red. “I’m not ruining my life. Simon’s a wonderful guy.”

  “Aha! See. You didn’t say you love him. You’re not over Jake. Simon’s just a rebound.”

  Kate’s expression turned dark. “Don’t you think I’ve cried enough tears over Jake? He’s gone. I have to move on.”

  Blaire could see she wasn’t getting anywhere. She changed her approach. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it’s been, but I can help you through it. I don’t have to go back home. I can stay here, find a job. You don’t need Simon.”

  Kate shook her head. “I’m getting married today. I love him. You’re my maid of honor. Act like it.”

  The anger and frustration felt like it was burning through Blaire. She was just trying to look out for Kate’s best interests. Why couldn’t Kate see it? “I am acting like it. It’s ridiculous. You’re starting at Hopkins in less than a month. You’ll have plenty to get your mind off Jake. Simon is a pretty boy with no substance. It’s a dishonor to Jake’s memory.” She knew that would hit the mark, remind Kate of who she really was, of who she really cared about.

  But Kate was trembling with anger. “How dare you try and make me feel guilty about getting married? You’re being a jealous bitch.”

  “Why shouldn’t I try to make you feel guilty? You don’t seem to feel guilty about killing Jake.” As soon as the words left her lips, she knew she’d gone too far.

  “I knew you always blamed me! Get out! I don’t want you in my wedding. I don’t even want you to come to my wedding. I don’t want you in my life!”

  “Kate, calm down . . . I didn’t . . .”

  “Go! I don’t even want to look at you.”

  Blaire could admit now that her comment was insensitive, but everyone said things they ended up being sorry for in the heat of the moment. That didn’t mean you cut them out of your life. But that’s exactly what Kate had done. Hours before the wedding, Blaire had packed her things and left in tears, not even saying goodbye to Lily and Harrison.

  Everyone thought Kate was such a hero. Saving lives, doing good. Kate had perfected the facade so well that she probably even believed it herself. Everything came so easily to her. She’d never even particularly wanted children, but the universe had given her Annabelle, because of course, she got everything. And once Annabelle arrived, did Kate appreciate her? No, she worked just as hard and left all the mothering to Hilda. That woman was more a mother to Annabelle than Kate had ever been. But did Kate care? No. She fired Hilda for no good reason.

  When Kate called her to tell her about Lily, Blaire was crushed. Over the years, they’d stayed in touch sporadically via email, but she’d gotten Lily’s letter and its news only two days earlier. After the initial shock, she’d been furious. How could Lily have never told her the truth? She almost ripped the letter to shreds, she was so enraged. But then she realized that she still had a family. Lily wanted her to come back to Baltimore. To take her place with them. She needed a family—the one she had made with Daniel had completely fallen apart.

  He’d been frustrated with her resistance to adoption. She’d tried to explain it to him, but he didn’t get it. She wanted her own child, someone connected through blood. Now, knowing what she did about her own history, she wondered if Shaina had ever really felt connected to her. Was the fact that Blaire wasn’t her biological daughter the reason it had been so easy for her to leave her behind? And her father—sending her away once he’d gotten married, making Enid a priority over her. She wanted to know what it felt like for someone to share her blood. Even Kate had been able to replace her with Selby at the drop of a hat. She wanted a child who would never be able to leave her.

  She was devastated when Daniel left, and on an impulse she’d called Lily. They normally emailed every few months, but it had been a long time since she’d heard Lily’s voice.

  “Hi, Lily.” She’d choked back a sob. “It’s Blaire.”

  “Blaire? Darling, what’s wrong?”

  “He left me. Daniel left me. I’m all alone. No one’s left.”

  They’d talked for hours that night, and before they hung up, Lily spoke the last words Blaire would ever hear from her.

  “It’s going to be okay, I promise. You’re not alone. Trust me on this, things are going to get better.”

  And then, a week later, she’d gotten Lily’s letter. She couldn’t call her father and demand to know why he’d nev
er told her. She had never had any idea that she was adopted. But he was gone now, and she wouldn’t give Enid the satisfaction of asking her.

  Blaire thought back to the last time she’d seen either of them. She had gone back to New Hampshire for the next-to-last time after Kate kicked her out of the wedding. She’d tossed and turned that night, furious, lying uncomfortably on a hard cot that had been shoved into her old room, the room that was now filled with more of Enid’s crafting junk. She imagined Selby next to Kate at the ceremony, fixing her train, holding her flowers, and then giving a speech at the reception. They were all having fun and celebrating, without a thought to Blaire.

  Her father had been impatient and short-tempered that weekend, and she assumed he didn’t want her there. Neither he nor Enid told her the truth. So she’d decided to leave the next morning. She asked her father to lend her some money to move back to New York while she looked for a job. He’d written her a generous check, and she left. Six months later, she got a call from Enid.

  “Blaire, can you come home? Your father’s not doing well.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  A long sigh came over the line. “He made me promise not to tell you. He’s been sick. He’s suffering from congestive heart failure. For the last two years. The meds aren’t working any longer. I don’t think it will be long now.”

  Why had he kept it from her? If she’d known that was the reason for his ill humor, she’d never have left. She would have taken care of him, angry as she still was about Enid’s intrusion into their lives.

  Blaire had rushed back to New Hampshire to find him hospitalized, hooked up to all kinds of machines. After ten days, he was gone. Enid had made out well. She’d inherited Blaire’s father’s dealerships and the millions he had in the bank, while Blaire inherited a measly hundred thousand dollars.