Clara was suffering too. Not only did she lose her husband, but her oldest son had been on the job. It wasn’t until later she realized her youngest, Gregory, had been on the site that day as well. He’d wanted to watch his brother work. He had been out of the building when the explosion occurred, but still endured extensive injuries, almost losing both his legs when flying debris smashed into him as he was riding his bike away. So many people are hurting. Some won’t ever recover. And if Clara gives up, she gives up for the whole town. She is their only fighting chance. And I can’t let that happen.
Clara’s home is on the far end of town. A small little ranch in desperate need of repairs. I pull into the gravel driveway, my tires crackling over the gritted rocks. A dim light glows from the front room window. Clara’s phone was disconnected, so I couldn’t call and warn her of my visit. Even though I knew she would have told me not to come. Putting my car in park, I climb out. Walking up the narrow walkway, I peek into the window and see a tiny woman sitting on the sofa watching television. When I ring the bell, she twists to peer out the window. It takes a few moments for her to open the door a smidge, a metal chain stopping it.
“Can I help you?” she asks through the slit in the door.
“Clara Hill?”
“Yes? You are?”
I reach my hand out to shake hers, realizing how silly that is since she can’t even fit hers through the small crack in the door. “Um…hi, my name is Hannah Matthews. I’m from Matthew and Assoc—”
“I have nothing to say to you.” She slams the door in my face. What the…? I take my fist and pound on the door.
“Mrs. Hill, please hear me out. Someone’s gotten to you. I read your testimony. There’s no way you decided to stop fighting for justice. For your husband and your son—”
The door flies open, and I stumble back a step. “Don’t you tell me I’m not fighting for my family. I’m doing what I need to do to keep the family I have left alive. Now, get off my property or—”
“No!” I yell, slapping my hand on the door so she can’t shut me out. “I refuse to sit back and allow a monster to win. To threaten people and continue to hold power over this town. He’s guilty. He took your loved ones away from you. He knew what he was doing. You know that. Your husband knew that. Whatever he’s threatened you with, we can protect you. Don’t turn your back on this—on the other people depending on you.”
Clara’s eyes blaze with emotion, tears welling and spilling over. “You don’t understand.” She swipes at her face. “He’s—”
“Mrs. Hill, invite me inside. Let me understand. Let me convince you no matter how much Benjamin Miller thinks he owns this town, he’s not above the law.”
There’s so much pain etched into her features. Her eyes are red, indicating she probably hasn’t stopped crying since this nightmare began, let alone slept. She wants to fight me, but she’s tired. She nods, unhooks the lock, opens the door fully, and allows me to enter her home.
It’s small, quaint. The walls are littered with family photos—memories of a life she’ll never have again. She waves for me to take a seat, and I accept, making myself comfortable on the loveseat. I look at the tv, and my heart cracks when I realize she’s watching a homemade family video.
“Would you like some coffee? Tea?”
“Water would be great, thank you.”
She disappears into the kitchen while I bring my attention back to the television. Two kids laughing as they run around the backyard being chased by their dad. I recognize Clara’s laughter as she records her husband and sons.
“Joey, better run. Daddy’s gonna get you!”
Joey, who appears to be about five, runs in circles around his dad, squealing, waving a stuffed animal in the air. “Catch me, Daddy! Catch me!”
Paul Hill laughs and shoots up, growling like a lion. He snatches his son into his arms, taking him to the ground and tickling him. Their other son, Gregory, jumps on his dad’s back. Clara’s laughter rings out behind the lens.
Just as Paul faces the camera, mouthing “I love you” to his wife, Clara walks back into the room, holding a glass of water.
“Joey was four there. He would have been twenty-one next week.” She hands me the glass and takes a seat across from me.
“I’m truly sorry for your loss, Mrs. Hill—”
“Please, call me Clara.”
I nod. “I’m not married, but I do have a brother. I can’t imagine losing him or anyone I love.”
She shakes her head, tears flowing down her pale, lean face. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t have let you in. They said…my son...I can’t lose anyone else.” She covers her face with her shaking hands as a sob breaks free. I’m up and taking the open spot next to her, doing my best to comfort her.
“Clara, they won’t hurt you. I promise.”
“They will. They’ve already tried. Gregory…he had a scare at the rehab center. They said it was a glitch, but he said it was a threat—retract or I’d pay the ultimate price.”
Jesus. What kind of monsters are the Millers? “Clara, you’re scared, but giving them what they want won’t keep you safe. It won’t give you the closure you deserve or the compensation you need. Without the compensation of this lawsuit, how will you pay for Gregory’s rehabilitation bills? How will you support the two of you once he’s finally ready to come home?”
“I won’t be supporting anyone if he’s dead. And they made that very clear. If I talk, they’ll kill my only living son.”
My anger gets the best of me. How does someone think they can control someone’s life? Have so much power, they chose who lives or dies? Without thinking, I grab Clara by the shoulders, shaking her until her eyes lock on mine. “I won’t let that happen. I promise you.”
“The day the news broke of the explosion…” She pauses, as if the reel of that horrific day begins to replay in her head. “That morning…I’d been so busy in the kitchen. Paul and Joey were off to work. And Gregory…I—just thought he was in his room. I didn’t even think to check—” She stops, hiding her weeping face in her hands. I give her a moment, until she composes herself enough to continue. “I’d been baking all morning for Alba’s baby shower.”
“Alba Winters from the bookstore?” She confirms with a single nod. “Wait, she was pregnant? It didn’t mention that in the report.”
“They left out a lot in the news. A pregnant wife, losing her husband and son. Unable to cope, commits suicide. She was so strong. But a moment of weakness, and she was just gone…” I hold her as her body trembles and she cries for her friend, community, and the burden she still bears for being a survivor.
When she pulls herself together once again, she continues. “I’m sorry. This is very hard for me.” She wipes at her soaked cheeks, taking a deep breath for strength. “Paul wanted to go to the police the moment he realized what caused the explosion. He told Mr. Miller over and over the land was uninhabitable. Something like this had been inevitable. But Mr. Miller shut him down at every angle. The threats started shortly after, and the scare tactics worked. Showing up at all times of the night. Rocks being thrown through our front window. He even had his son stalking us.”
“His son? Why?”
“Mr. Miller claimed innocence the whole time. In his statement, he argued my husband signed off on those contracts willingly. There was no duress involved, and clearly my husband was only trying to cover himself. We’d gone to the police about the threats and stalking, but they didn’t do anything. Couldn’t. Mr. Miller had an alibi for every situation. Of course he did since his son was doing all his bidding. He would sit at the hospital, find ways into Gregory’s room. When we showed up, he’d be there sitting by his side. But he wasn’t there as a support system. Every time, he would be standing next to his defibrillator, as if he were seconds from pulling the plug.”
“Did you ever go to the police about him?” I ask.
“Again, we tried. But they didn’t believe us. His son had an outstanding r
ecord. No one would believe he was doing his father’s dirty work or had any ill intentions.”
“The guilt got to Paul. He told me he had to go turn himself in and confess his wrongdoings. It was weighing too heavy on his shoulders. The lost lives of all those people. His own son. He couldn’t live with himself. The morning he was set to go to the police station, I found him in the garage—apparent suicide.” Her voice cracks, and a guttural sound of agony slices into me. “He was hanging there. Pale. His eyes...”
I fight my own emotions, feeling the muscles in my chin start to tremble. “I’m so sorry, Clara.” Because I am.
A few staggered breaths, and she goes on. “The letter was typed. Didn’t sound like him at all. That’s how I knew.”
I rub her back, hoping to offer her any sort of support. “Clara, did anyone see anything that night? That morning? Anything off that could be a clue to help us? Anything you didn’t add in your original report?”
“Maribel from across the street said a car woke her up in the middle of the night. She thought it was strange being so late. When she peeked out the window, she saw a young man wearing a hoodie running across the street.”
I don’t recall this information being in any of the files I studied. “Why didn’t you ever mention this?”
“Because by the time Maribel realized what she’d seen, it had spooked her. She packed up and moved to Alabama with her sister. She wouldn’t be of help to the case, so it didn’t matter.”
It all matters. Every single detail. “Do you have any idea who it could have been?”
She pulls her head from her hands, her eyes beaming with confidence as she answers me. “It was Benjamin Miller’s son.
By the time I exit Clara’s home, the sun is setting. I throw myself into my car, my heart racing. This is it. This can save the case. As I pull back onto Main Street, I shuffle through my purse for my phone. I dial Levi’s number, but it instantly goes to voicemail. “Oh, come on!” I impatiently wait for the voice message until the beep sounds. “Levi, I need you to call me back the second you get this.” A notification dings on my phone, telling me my battery is low. “Oh, come on!” Go figure I left my charger in Levi’s car. I utilize my remaining phone life and dial the one person I can trust to help me: Professor Fischer. He always mentioned his connections with the court system judges, from civil to supreme. It may be a longshot, but at this point, what do I have to lose? Twenty minutes and a three-way call to the supreme court judge later, thanks to Professor Fischer, I’m being granted a continuance on the Miller case.
“Yes. I agree, sir. Fully. Not a second longer. Thank you. You have no idea. Goodbye.” I end the call, squealing into my steering wheel, accidently swerving into the other lane. A car honks at me, and I jerk, dropping my phone. “Sorry,” I wave, gathering myself. Holy crap. I got it. I really got it. With Clara back on board and the continuance, we can nail this case.
I left Clara in search of finding a photo of Benjamin Miller’s son so we can submit him into evidence and subpoena him for trial. I dial Levi’s number again, and again, voicemail. Dammit! I need to get home—fast. This changes everything.
Will it change Levi’s mind about us? The wounds from his hurtful words slice at my heart all over again. “Stop,” I scold myself. As much as my heart bleeds from his distrust, I need to band-aid my emotions and focus on what’s important. Levi may have given up on me, but I refuse to give up on him. Unlike my upbringing, he was always surrounded by people who let him down. His mom, his dad, countless girlfriends who took advantage of his kind heart. I won’t be another person in his life who does. Whether we have a future, he’s always been family. Always will be.
I need to get ahold of Levi. I call his office line and get his voicemail. A call to my dad, and I get his voicemail too. Where in the world is everybody! I decide against calling Braydon. My suspicions where he’s concerned has my radar dinging in the red zone, and that nagging feeling inside my chest tells me Levi has been right about him all along.
I dial Levi’s number one last time. It hurts to consider it, but he may purposely be avoiding my calls. Just as I decide to leave the information on his voicemail, he answers. “Jesus, what? Not a good time, Hannah—”
“I got a continuance,” I spit out before he can say another word.
There’s a short pause, then he speaks, his voice low and laced with annoyance. “How’s that possible? I tried. We were denied.”
“It doesn’t matter. We now have an additional forty-eight hours until trial begins.”
There’s shuffling in the background. “What the fuck did you do?” His anger seeps through the phone, rattling my already frayed nerves.
I bite my lower lip, but there’s no way of hiding it. “I went to see Clara Hill.”
A thunderous boom echoes in the background, and I imagine Levi taking his fists to something hard. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“I can’t. Listen to me. She’s back on. I got her testimony. The Miller’s did get to her. Threatened her son. I told her we’d protect her. There’s someone else—”
“Jesus Christ, Hannah! What were you thinking?”
“I was—”
“What you did not only could have jeopardized the company, but you could have been slapped with a lawsuit. Not to mention she’s being threatened! That puts you in fucking danger!” The last of his sentence comes out on a roar. I’m forced to pull the phone away so he doesn’t blow out my eardrums.
“Listen, I know I was taking a risk—”
“A risk?”
“Yeah, a risk! But in the end, it worked out. I got what we needed. I got us a continuance! The case isn’t dead. We can win this.” He sighs heavily. I know Levi well enough to know his hand is wrestling in his hair, his mind racing. “Where are you? Are you at the office? I’ll meet you.”
A short pause, and he answers, “I’m at home.”
I search the clock on my dash for the time. It’s a bit early for him to be off work, considering the extensity of what’s going on with the case. “Why are you at home? Shouldn’t you still be at work?”
“Have you talked to your brother?”
Why does that matter right now? “No, why? Why are you at home? I’m coming over—”
“No. I won’t be here. I have to meet Kip at Jake’s soon.”
“Fine, I’ll meet you there—”
“Hannah, Jesus, no! Something happened at work today. Kip—” His voice cuts out, the line going silent.
“Levi?” I pull my phone away from my face. Dead. “Oh, come on!” Kipley what? Is he hurt? Did something happen? My nerves rattle into a state of electrified panic. I check the time. I’m only twenty-five minutes out. I race with all my might, weaving in and out of cars, breaking a long list of traffic violations, until I’m pulling into the parking lot of Jake’s bar.
I get out—or attempt to, forgetting I’m still latched to my seat belt. Of course it’s the most inconvenient time to get jammed. “For the love!” I fight with the strap, until it finally releases, and I slip, falling sideways out of my car. I grunt when I stick my hand out to catch my fall, scraping it against the gravel. Gathering myself, I get up and sprint toward the building, getting held up by the doorman requesting my ID.
I frantically scope the bar in search of Levi. That’s when I spot a wide-eyed Stacey. She waves me over, and I scurry in her direction. “Hannah, what are you doing here? I don’t think this is a good idea.” Her face is red with worry. Her eyes wander down to my scraped palm. “What happened?”
“Nothing. It’s fine. Have you seen Levi?”
She stares at me, confused. “No, not yet, but you really shouldn’t be here. Kip is very angry right now. If he sees you two in the same—”
“What do you mean angry? Why is Kip angry?”
“Hannah.” Levi’s voice has me spinning around to face him. God, I missed him. I want to throw my arms around him and bask in his comfort. Have him tell me he forgives me and things are going to be okay.
“You can’t be here. You need to leave.” Or not. His voice is dripping with disgust. Anger.
“Why? I told you. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll tell my dad—”
He takes a step toward me, latching his hand around my bicep. His grip is hard. “Forget about the fucking case, you need to fucking—”
“You son of a bitch!” We both turn at my brother’s voice as he storms toward us. I don’t even have time to register as Kipley’s fist cocks back and smashes into Levi’s face. I scream as his head flies back. His hand jerks as he releases me and I fall backwards into Stacey.
“Kipley!” I scream in horror.
Kipley ignores me and goes barreling into Levi, throwing another punch. “You motherfucker! For real? My fucking sister?” He goes for another swing, and I scream while Levi willingly takes the blow.
“Kipley, stop!” I throw myself in between them, but Kip’s too enraged to acknowledge me. He goes after Levi again, shoving me out of the way. Stumbling, I lose my balance and land hard on my butt.
“How fucking could you?” Another swing. Another shriek from me. Why the hell isn’t Levi fighting back?
“Kip, stop! It’s not what you think!” My cry falls on deaf ears as my brother wrestles him to the ground, getting a good shot to Levi’s ribs.
“You think I wouldn’t find out? You piece of shit, you’ve been like a brother to me since we were kids. Sexual harassment?” Kip’s voice cracks, but he quickly regains his composure. “She’s like your sister!” he yells, landing blow after blow. “You sick fuck!”
His words halt me. “What? No, what are you talking about!” I push off the ground and lock my fists around Kipley’s shirt, pulling him off Levi. “You’re wrong. That’s not what’s happening.” My eyes take in a bloody Levi. “Tell him,” I beg. Levi coughs, blood splattering from his lip. “Levi—”
“Hannah, you don’t have to cover for him. Dad told me—”
“Told you what?” I snap at my brother. I turn my confused eyes back to Levi. What is he hiding from me?
“You should have come to me. I would have helped you. Taken care of—”
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