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“I’m fine. Promise. Can we just forget about it for the rest of the weekend? Let’s focus on your stuff. There was no need for you to be involved. I pulled you away from the office. The gala is tomorrow night. You have a million things to do between now and then, including packing for your trip. There’s no reason to change your plans. You’re getting on that flight the morning after if I have to drag you to the airport.”

He fixed his laser stare on me. “There is nothing more important to me than you. I can postpone my trip. I can cancel this funder in a heartbeat. And I don’t want you going now.”

“No,” I said. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not going to let some two-bit vandal ruin this weekend for you. Or for me. I’m proud of what you’re doing. It’s a big night.”

He would be like this all evening. When something scared him, it was like he couldn’t stand even a second without my touch. As if he had to convince himself that I was real. That I wasn’t like Bennett. That he wasn’t in danger of losing me.

I led him to the living room. We sat on the couch overlooking the largest windows facing west. From here, we could watch the sunset over Lake Michigan.

I knew what he needed. The only thing that might calm him. He sat beside me. I pulled him toward me. Slowly, he leaned sideways until his head rested on my lap. I traced slow circles around his temple. Gradually, I felt his pulse grow steady. His breathing relaxed. He was calm.

Lock didn’t make it until sunset. He started to snore. I couldn’t help it. It made me smile. His great-grandfather knew what he was about when he built the house in this exact spot. The breathtaking sky blazed orange and purple. The kind of beauty that made you want to stay here forever. In paradise.

As Lock settled, I felt my own pulse quicken. I’d spoken half-truths to him. I was scared of what had happened today. And I didn’t believe this was some random teenage vandal. Someone was trying to send me a message.

Complicit.

It was as if someone out there knew my deepest secrets. Or worse… the lies I told to myself.

TWENTY-ONE

CORRINE

“It’s a brave thing you did.”

She was nice to me. She walked me to my car on the lowest level of the parking garage. She didn’t have to do that. She had hooded eyelids that swallowed her eyes when she smiled. Her auburn hair was helmeted in spray, but it smelled good. She was probably someone’s grandmother.

“I don’t feel very brave,” I said. “I feel embarrassed.”

“Oh, honey. Don’t be. They’re grateful that you came today. They know you didn’t have to. People like you are the only way things like this ever get solved.” She lingered as I unlocked my door. “Honey?” she asked.

Belinda Humphrey. Her ID badge swung between her breasts. It was an old photo. Her hair was long.

“Are you sure I can’t call someone for you?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Thank you for everything.”

“There are people,” she said. “Victims’ groups. You don’t have to be alone if this thing goes to trial. If you’re called as a witness.”

A stab of panic went through me. I couldn’t think that far ahead. I think she read what I was thinking. Maybe my color changed.

“You just go home and drive safely,” Belinda said. “You have Detective Dennison and Ms. Sobel’s cards? You call them if you have any questions or need something. They don’t just say that to say it. I’ve worked with both of them for a very long time. They’ll help you through this, honey.”

She took a step and gave me a quick hug. It felt good. It had been a very long time since someone had shown me random kindness like that. She stood waving as I pulled out of my parking space and started the hour drive home.

I made just one stop, needing gas. As I walked into the convenience store, I caught myself on the security camera overhead. I almost didn’t recognize myself. Who was this person in a pressed linen dress and white sweater? I walked up to the counter, paid for my gas, and asked the clerk for one more thing. She helpfully got it and rang me out.

It was only seven by the time I got home. I felt like I’d had an anvil dropped on my head. I’d done the right thing. It had to be the right thing. I closed the door, locked it, and tried to shut out the day.

“Corrine?” I heard my name under a blanket of clouds. Impossibly, it sounded like my mother’s voice. Cold. Distant. Persistent. But I was warm. I was safe. I just wanted her to go away.

“Cor!”

She shook me violently. The light felt like tiny forks stabbing me in the eyes.

“Stop it,” I croaked.

“Corrine! Get up.”