Behind Every Lie

by Christina McDonald

  The words tightened in my stomach, flying up my throat and bursting from my mouth. “Go to hell, Seb.”

  The next thing I knew, Seb’s boot was heading toward my face.

  And then everything went black.

  * * *

  I had no idea how long I’d been out—a minute, an hour? The rain was a torrent, the storm settling around the house as if it were under siege. My shattered cheekbone was pressed to the floor. Halos shimmered across my vision. The squeezing knot of my heart thudded like a trapped bird. The tips of my fingers and toes were numb.

  Something was very wrong with me.

  “Good to see you’re awake,” Seb said. He grabbed me under my arms and threw me back into the armchair, then sat on the couch and stared at me. “Doesn’t look like you’re going anywhere.”

  I moaned and clutched my chest. The pain was dreadful, making me nauseated. I could feel my life seeping away, slowly circling toward the drain.

  “I had a little time to think while you were out,” he finally said. “I don’t need Rose. You’re to blame for our daughter’s death. So I thought about it. What should your punishment be? And then it came to me. Laura. Eva, as you call her now. I’ll kill her, and you’ll know forever it was your fault.”

  “It won’t bring our daughter back,” I wheezed, clutching my chest. Blood oozed from my split lip, and I licked it, my tongue sticking to the dry skin.

  “Maybe not, but it’ll make me feel better. I might even let you live, just so the guilt can eat you up.” He smirked when he saw my expression. “You don’t believe me?”

  I glared at him, but he just shrugged.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He waved my phone at me. “I found Eva’s phone number and texted her for you. She should be here soon.”

  I closed my eyes and thought about Eva. The way her dark mahogany hair shimmered in the sun. How she tilted her head to the right when she laughed. The sound of her calling out for me in the middle of the night when she was small. The feel of her cheek when she pressed it to mine and whispered, “I love you, Mama.”

  I should have told her how I felt. I should have said the words out loud. I love you, too.

  In my mind, she was all the ages I had known her: the three-year-old torn, terrified, from her mother’s arms; the precocious little girl asking a million questions; the twelve-year-old with knobby knees, unused to her sudden breasts; the sullen fifteen-year-old locking herself in her bedroom, uncertain of who she was or her place in the world; the terrified woman doubting herself after a horrific attack.

  Seb was wrong—I didn’t just slot her in to fill the space where our daughter should have been. I loved her; I had always loved her. I was just too scared to acknowledge that love because it meant accepting that my daughter was truly gone.

  I had held my blame and unforgiveness up like a flag, wrapped my body in it, and heralded it for all to see. It had made me hard and abrupt and distant.

  But I had to forgive myself. Maybe then Eva could forgive me too.

  A rumble of thunder boomed outside, the living room lights flickering on, then back off. And suddenly the front door creaked and swung open. An outline filled the doorway.

  Eva.

  forty-four

  eva

  I SHOVED MY KEYS AND phone into my back pocket and reached for the door handle. I froze. The door was unlatched, open a few inches.

  “Mom?” I pushed the door open with my toe and felt around in the dark for the light switch. I’d sneaked in late at night enough times when I was in high school to make it feel instantly familiar.

  “Mom, I’m here. Is everything okay?”

  The living room light flickered on. I gasped, barely able to comprehend what I was seeing. Mom was slumped in her old armchair, which had been turned to face the front door. She wasn’t wearing her glasses. Her lip was split, blood dripping from a gash in her cheekbone. Her arms hung limply on either side. Her skin was waxy and gray.

  Suddenly the world lit up, fireworks zipping along the insides of my eyelids as a private bomb exploded somewhere inside my head. My knees loosened, but a thick arm snaked around my neck, holding me up. Something cold and hard pressed against the tender skin at my throat.

  “Let her go, Sebastian,” Mom rasped. She didn’t move from her chair, her eyes drooping, chest heaving. “It’s me you want, not her.”

  The man—stout and grizzled, with dark hair and a misshapen nose—ignored Mom, shoving me into the chair next to her. He ripped off a length of duct tape and bound my wrists together behind the chair.

  Blood rolled hot and sticky from my temple, splattering onto my coat collar and pooling in the crevice of my collarbone. Pain rocketed in bands around my head.

  “Mom,” I whimpered, terrified. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I tried to keep you safe.”

  Think, I told myself. Think!

  My car keys. They were in my back pocket. If I could reach them, maybe I could cut through the tape.

  I rolled my shoulders, pretending to stretch my neck as I maneuvered my fingers to slide the keys out. The movement sent off an avalanche of pain. I gritted my teeth and pushed through it. I had to do something. I had to keep going, or Mom and I would both die.

  A moan rasped from Mom’s throat.

  “What have you done to her?” I asked.

  “Foxglove.” He had an English accent, the word hard and round, as if his mouth were full of rocks. “I mixed the leaves into her tea.” He looked pleased with himself.

  “The flower?” I shook my head, trying to cover the movement of me sawing at the tape around my wrists. Pain surged from my blood-soaked temple through my entire body.

  “Flower. Poison. Whatever. Her heart will stop soon.”

  “You poisoned me? Really, Seb?” Mom managed a quirk of her lips, a mocking glint in her eye. “How very passive of you.”

  “Technically, you poisoned yourself,” he replied, smirking.

  “Why are you doing this?” I whispered. “What do you want from us?”

  “Tell me where Rose is.”

  I glanced at Mom, confused. “Who’s Rose?”

  Sebastian looked at me for a long time. “Rose Ashford. She’s the reason I texted you.”

  Suddenly the Love you in the text made sense. I knew something had been off.

  “We don’t even know a Rose!” Anger and relief danced feather-soft in my throat. Maybe this was a mistake. A silly case of mistaken identity. Maybe everything would be okay.

  Sebastian threw his head back and laughed. His blue eyes glinted, wet and oily in the overhead light.

  “You really don’t know? She never told you?”

  I shook my head, using the movement to again slash at the tape. I felt a thread loosen and give way.

  “Rose is your real mother, not Katherine. And you aren’t Eva, my dear. You’re Laura. Eva was my daughter. She died falling out of a window when she was just three.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Katherine used to nanny for a woman named Rose Ashford. Her daughter, Laura, and my daughter, Eva, were the same age. They became quite the foursome. Did you fuck her, Katherine? You certainly wanted to.”

  Mom’s head slid back against the armchair. Her eyes closed for so long I started to panic. But her chest was moving.

  “Katherine opened the window in the room where you girls were playing. Eva, my Eva, climbed onto the window ledge. She fell out of the window and died. Rose was arrested and released, but a few weeks later she and Katherine disappeared with you. Laura.” He turned to Mom. “Why? Why did you run away with them?”

  “I heard you talking to Paddy.” Tears seeped from between Mom’s eyelids. “You were going to have Rose killed. I couldn’t have another death on my conscience.”

  “So you used our daughter’s birth certificate and let her become Eva.” He turned to me, shaking his head in disgust. “Like you could slot into her shoes. You.” He looke
d at me, really looked at me then, his eyes hard and cold on mine. “You worthless piece of shit. You were too stupid to even realize she was lying to you all along. You’re nothing like my bright Eva.”

  Anger frothed up inside of me. It felt good boiling in the cauldron of my belly; better than the sadness and doubt that’d been my constant companions for years. I wasn’t going to spend my last few minutes on this earth apologizing for something that wasn’t my fault.

  “You sadistic fuck,” I shouted. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

  He pressed the tip of the knife into my neck, slowly, with excruciating precision. The skin broke, a hot bead of blood rolling down to my throat. Sebastian pressed harder. I screamed as pain hit me.

  The front door crashed open. A familiar shape stood in the doorway, dripping rain all over the carpet.

  Sebastian jumped back, the knife in front of him. I gasped as I recognized the person.

  My savior. My hero.

  “Liam!”

  “Eva!” His eyes darted around the room, landing on the knife in Sebastian’s hands.

  Liam would save us.

  But as my brain tried to adjust to the fact that Liam was here, a secret, insidious voice whispered in my ear.

  How did he find me?

  forty-five

  kat

  that night

  LIGHTNING FORKED OUTSIDE THE HOUSE, bright fireworks igniting behind the man as he stumbled inside. Blond. Well-built. A boyish face. He was wearing jogging pants and a shiny Adidas shirt, and on his wrist was a silver watch.

  A Rolex.

  I looked again at his face. I’d seen him before.

  “Liam!” Eva pulled against her restraints. “Help!”

  Liam lunged for Sebastian, but Sebastian had the knife. He stabbed it at Liam so he had to jump out of the way, the sharp edge of the blade narrowly missing his belly. Sebastian pressed the knife to Eva’s neck.

  “You move, and I’ll kill her.”

  Liam froze and raised his hands. “Come on, man. Let’s talk about this. Just put it down.”

  Without looking away, Sebastian grabbed another chair from the dining room table and set it next to Eva’s. He waved the knife toward it. “Sit down.”

  Liam did not budge. “Is it a ransom you want? I’m sure we can come to some arrangement here. Nobody needs to get hurt.”

  Sebastian thrust the knife toward Eva’s neck. She flinched. “I said, sit down!”

  “All right, all right!” Liam complied, nostrils flaring.

  Sebastian taped Liam’s wrists behind his back. I coughed wetly, stomach roiling. Vomiting out the poison earlier was likely the only reason I was still alive.

  “I recognize you,” I said to Liam. “You visited Eva at the hospital after she gave birth.”

  Liam’s eyes darted between mine and Eva’s. He shook his head, a sharp jerk of his chin. “I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

  Eva’s eyebrows tightened into knots.

  “No, I’m certain of it,” I insisted. “You held the hallway door open for me. I noticed your watch because it was very like the Rolex Seb used to wear.”

  I looked at Seb’s wrist, but he shrugged. “I sold that years ago.”

  “Sorry, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Eva shook her head, wincing. “He couldn’t have been at the hospital, Mom. We didn’t meet until after I moved to Whidbey Island.” She bit her lip and looked at Liam. “Right?”

  “No! No. Of course not! I mean, not that I remember. M-maybe we saw each other somewhere along the line, but …”

  He was talking too much, the lie stamped inadvertently on his face. Even Eva could see it, a dawning realization settling gently across her face.

  “How did you find me tonight?”

  Liam pressed his lips together.

  “Liam! How did you find me?”

  He sighed. “I put a tracking device in your purse.”

  Eva’s eyes widened. “Why? When?”

  “I guess, I don’t know—years ago.” He shook his head. “You’re just so stupid sometimes!” he exploded. “So naïve. There are some bad people in the world, like this guy!” He tilted his head at Sebastian, and Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I wanted to protect you. I’ve always wanted to protect you. Even from yourself.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t even remember the night we met, do you? We were talking at the bar when my phone rang. I left to answer it, but when I came back you were talking to someone else. You are so beautiful, Eva, so sweet and innocent, but you trust anybody, everybody but yourself. I watched as he slipped something in your drink, and you didn’t even notice! He followed you outside and I knew what he was going to do. But I got to you first. I saved you.”

  Eva’s face paled even further. She looked positively ill, her lips a disturbing shade of blue-white.

  “I’m sorry about the tracking device. I know it sounds weird and creepy, but I swear, it isn’t like that. I wanted to keep you safe because I love you! That’s how I found you!”

  Sebastian snorted a laugh. “Fat lot of good you’ve done here, eh?”

  Eva looked down, crying silently. Only I could see the gentle sawing motion as she worked her way through the final threads of tape at her wrists.

  “He’s right.” She looked at Liam, her face hard and cold. “You weren’t able to save me, Liam. Then or now. You’re the one I shouldn’t have trusted.”

  Liam looked like she’d slapped him. He opened his mouth to reply but suddenly Eva exploded out of her seat. She lunged for the mug I’d dropped on the floor earlier, grasped the handle firmly, and smashed it into the side of Sebastian’s head. It made a hollow thunk as it ricocheted off his skull. He stumbled to his knees, clutching his head, the knife clattering to the floor.

  “Run, Eva!” The words snapped out of my throat. I tried to stand but couldn’t, my hands and feet weighted like sandbags. I clutched my chest, my heartbeat suddenly slowing, as if the brakes had been put on. I collapsed into the armchair.

  Eva wrenched the front door open, opening her mouth to scream, but Sebastian was already there. He grabbed her shirt and dragged her back inside. The material ripped and he tossed her to the floor. Her head cracked, a sickening thunk. She slumped onto the floor, stunned.

  Sebastian kicked the door shut and leapt on her. She tried to roll out from under him, but he punched her in the face and she went limp, dazed.

  Then the knife was in his hand, raised over his head, moving in slow motion toward her throat.

  “Eva!” Liam strained against his restraints. The muscles in his neck were like cords as he tried to free himself.

  I summoned every last shred of strength in me and threw myself out of my chair. The full force of my weight landed on Sebastian. We crashed to the floor, my body thudding hard into the fireplace grate. But he still had the knife, and suddenly he was on top of me, rising above me like a moon. I watched the knife’s downward trajectory, felt the steel burning as it slid into the base of my neck, like hot metal through butter.

  Sebastian staggered off of me, the knife still in his hand. His face momentarily registered what he had done. He leapt on top of Eva, his eyes crazed, void of all reason.

  I pressed my shaking hands to my throat, trying to stop the blood, but it was gushing out too eagerly, hot and sticky on my fingers. I stumbled to my feet, my slick hands fumbling for the fireplace poker. The knife in Seb’s hand slashed down, down, down toward Eva.

  I lifted the poker above my head and smashed it into the back of Sebastian’s skull with all my might. Sebastian’s head cleaved in half at the back, making the wet shluck of a watermelon splitting. He hung suspended in the air for a split second, eyes wide, as if surprised that I had dared defy him. Then he crumpled on top of Eva, limp as a tissue, the knife in his hand clattering onto the floor.

  “Eva!” Liam shouted.

  “Oh my God!” Eva screamed, shoving Sebastian’s b
ody off her and rolling away, staggering to her feet. “Oh fuck! Oh my God! What have I done?”

  Nothing, I wanted to say. You are innocent. You always were.

  But the words came out an unintelligible gurgle as blood pooled in my throat. I slumped to the floor next to Sebastian’s body. How fitting that we would die together after all these years apart. I should’ve known it would end like this. I should’ve known how easily things come unraveled when they were stitched together with lies.

  “Mom! Mom!” Eva dropped to her knees. She tore her coat off and pressed it to my spurting neck. The pain was extraordinary, gripping me with razor-sharp talons. My pulse stuttered, my lungs crumpling like paper bags. “Oh God. Mom! What do I do? Tell me what to do!”

  Our eyes met, and I wanted to tell her how absolutely perfect she was. How much I loved her. That I didn’t regret our time together, not one bit.

  I wished I had time to say it.

  As the blood seeped out of me, I realized there was a terrible sort of symmetry to my death. I had done what I always planned to do—I’d saved Eva. And with that realization, I was able to forgive myself.

  “It’s … okay.” Blood dribbled, hot and sticky, out of my mouth.

  A huge weight was crushing my chest. I could not catch a breath. Eva thrust the coat away, pressing her hands to my throat. “Mom. Don’t try to talk. I’m going to call the police.”

  I smiled, a universe of sadness filling me at everything we would lose, a solar system mapping planets of pain and sorrow. I wanted more, so much more, but oh, how grateful I was for the time we’d had. Love, a mother’s love, is infinitely expanding, like the universe we exist in. Eva taught me that.

  “My girl,” I whispered, my breath bloody in my throat. “You healed me.” I coughed, a wet rattle. “You’re stronger than you think. Trust … that. Promise.”

  “I promise, Mom.” Eva was crying, tears drawing streaks down her bloodstained cheeks.

  There was something important I had to say, that I had wanted to say since that day so long ago, standing on the edge of an icy lake. I grasped her hand, gave it three weak squeezes, and whispered the words: “I. Love. You.”