Genevieve sat back in her chair. “It’s surreal to be talking about Mom and Dad destroying evidence.” Her mother had received a ticket for running a red light back when Genevieve was in tenth grade. To her knowledge, that was the worst thing either of her parents had ever done.
“It’s surreal to think that Mom was married to another man,” Natasha replied. “But she was. So here we are.”
Genevieve licked a dab of foam from her lip. “I’m good with waiting to talk to them until we’ve learned everything we can.” The more she and Natasha could uncover, the more honesty they could force out of their parents. Also, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to tackling this topic with them. They’d expressly told her that the letter held no merit. Then she’d gone behind their backs anyway to research their past.
“It’s not practical for me to drive all over Georgia chasing down leads,” Natasha said. “I can only make it about forty-five minutes in the car with the kids before I want to kill myself.”
“Well, I’m not on board with you killing yourself, so I’ll drive places when necessary.”
“I want to contribute my share, though, so I’ll spend time online researching whatever I can.”
“Because TV is a no-go when living Austenly, but computers and cell phones are permissible.”
“Precisely. I started researching last night, after the pianoforte fiasco, by reading articles about Russell’s death.”
“What?” Genevieve squawked. She lobbed a crumpled napkin at her. “We agreed to postpone research until we could sleep on the news.”
“And you stuck to our agreement because I raised you right.”
“Natasha!”
“I know. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”
A young man with a name tag readingLuisdelivered their breakfast plates to them.
“Wow,” Natasha murmured admiringly.
Once they’d assured Luis they had everything they needed, Genevieve prayed over their food. Halfway through the prayer, sentiment swamped her, and her voice quavered. Shoot. Her state of mind during recovery: still so volatile! She brought the prayer to an end.
“Are you crying?” Natasha asked.
“‘Have you no consideration for my poor nerves?’” Genevieve asked, quotingPride and Prejudice.
“‘I have the utmost respect for your nerves,’” Natasha quoted back without hesitation. “‘They’ve been my constant companion these twenty years.’”
That was unquestionably true.
Genevieve considered her waffle, bordered by a garnish of berries and topped with a dollop of coconut cream. She took her first bite, and her spine liquefied as she chewed.
Natasha swallowed. “This breakfast casserole is amazing.”
“Mine’s amazing, too.”
“I love eating here because I don’t have to leave wracked with shame.”
Genevieve savored more coffee, then sectioned off another bite of waffle. “So what did you learn last night about Russell Atwell?”
“Russell graduated from Mercer the same year Mom did.”
“It’s pretty safe to assume that they met in college, then, since they got married just a few months after graduating.”
“I agree. Russell’s from Camden, which explains why he and Mom were living in Camden after they married.”
“Ah.”
“As far as I could tell, Russell himself wasn’t all that remarkable. He was a clean-cut, all-American guy. His death, however, was very remarkable.”
“Death by serial killer.”
