Chapter 6
The color drained from Evan’s face.
He looked at the photograph. He looked at me. He looked at the photograph again.
“That’s impossible,” he said. “My father never—he would never—he loved my mother—”
“Your father was a good man,” I said. “He met my mother at a charity gala in 1998. They fell in love. It wasn’t supposed to happen. He was married. She was a single mother with a two-year-old daughter—me. But it did happen. And for two years, they were happy.”
I pulled another photograph from the envelope. This one showed a man holding a baby—me—up in the air. He was smiling like I was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
“Your father wanted to leave Victoria,” I said. “He wanted to marry my mother. He was going to take half the Carter fortune, set us up in a house in Connecticut, and finally be free. But Victoria found out.”
Evan was shaking his head. “No. My mother loved my father. She’d never—”
“Your mother found the divorce papers in his briefcase,” I continued. “The next week, your father was dead. The official report said heart attack. He was forty-two years old. Healthy. Ran marathons. No history of heart problems.”
The room was freezing now.
“Victoria didn’t just kill him,” I said. “She destroyed my mother too. She called every business partner my mother had. She told them my mother was a drug addict, a thief, a prostitute. She blacklisted her in every industry in the city. Within six months, we were homeless. My mother got sick—really sick—because she couldn’t afford health insurance. She died when I was twelve. In a shelter. Because Victoria Carter decided we didn’t deserve to live.”
I looked at Evan.
“I didn’t marry you because I loved you, Evan. I married you because I needed to get inside this family. I needed to find the proof that would take Victoria down. I needed to make her pay for what she did to my parents.”
The words were out. The secret I’d carried for fifteen years was finally in the open.
Evan stumbled backward until he hit the wall.
“So I was just… bait?” he said. “A year and a half of my life… you never cared at all?”
“I cared that you were being used by your mother,” I said. “I cared that she was turning you into something ugly. But I didn’t love you. Not really. How could I? Every time I looked at you, I saw her eyes. I saw the woman who killed the only two people who ever loved me.”
My father stood up and walked over to me. He put one hand on my shoulder. He hadn’t said a word all night, but his presence was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
“I tried to stop her,” my father said quietly to Evan. “I went to the police. I went to the newspapers. Victoria owned all of them. She told everyone I was a grieving husband who’d lost his mind. They put me in a psychiatric ward for six months. By the time I got out, my wife was dead, and my little girl was in foster care.”
His voice cracked.
“I promised Lily that one day we’d make it right. Tonight… tonight we kept that promise.”
Evan slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. He looked like every belief he’d ever held had just been incinerated.
“My father,” he whispered. “He never loved my mother?”
“Your father stayed with your mother for you and Blake,” I said. “He was going to leave, but then he found out Victoria was pregnant with Blake. He couldn’t bear the thought of his boys being raised by her alone. So he stayed. And for that, she murdered him.”
I opened the velvet jewelry box.
Inside was a ring. Not my wedding ring. An older ring. A sapphire surrounded by diamonds.
“This was my mother’s,” I said. “Your father gave it to her. She wore it every day until the day she died. The only reason I have it is because a kind nurse at the shelter slipped it into my backpack before they took me away. I’ve carried it with me ever since.”
I closed the box.
“The safe wasn’t about money, Evan. It was about this. I needed to be sure—one hundred percent sure—that you and your mother were exactly who I thought you were. That when push came to shove, you’d choose her over me. And you did. You didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.”
Rebecca checked her watch.
“Lily,” she said gently. “We should go. The press is outside. The cars are waiting.”
I nodded.
I started walking toward the door. My torn dress dragged on the floor behind me like a funeral train.
“Lily,” Evan called out.
I stopped but didn’t turn around.
“Is there anything I can do?” he said. “To make this right? To atone for what my mother did?”
I thought about it.
I thought about my mother’s cold hands in that shelter. I thought about my father crying in the psychiatric ward. I thought about the little girl I used to be, sleeping on a cot and wondering why the world hated her so much.
“Live an honest life,” I said without turning. “Work hard. Be kind. Don’t be your mother. That’s the only thing that would ever matter.”
I walked out.
My father put his coat over my shoulders as we stepped into the hallway. Rebecca was already on the phone, arranging statements and scheduling court dates. Cole walked ahead, clearing the path.
But as we neared the elevator, I heard running footsteps behind me.
I turned.
It was Blake.
May you like
He was out of breath, his tuxedo wrinkled, his eyes red from crying. The FBI agents who’d been with him were standing by the door, watching but not interfering.
“Lily,” he gasped. “Wait. You need to know something. About my mom. She’s not done.”
