“In fact, you failed Miss Wells since she returned, just like you failed her years ago. And you preyed on a parent’s grief to make Miss Wells a scapegoat because of your history with Sorrow Wells’s mother, Claire Wells.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Felix asks under his breath, but I’m as lost as he is.
“I don’t understand—” Stephenson starts but is cut off.
“Is it not true that you had an affair with Claire Wells around the time she became pregnant with Sorrow? She was adamant the baby wasn’t yours, but you were never one hundred percent sure. She had your dark hair and your mother’s eyes, right?”
The chief narrows his eyes at my mother, the hate emanating from them making me realize this was something he had told her in confidence. Holy shit, though, could Stephenson be Sorrow’s dad? God, I hope not. Thank fuck she didn’t come back in.
“Sorrow is not my daughter. And I wasn’t having an affair with Claire. We were in a relationship. She is the one who cheated on me with Rodger. Rodger is Sorrow’s father and the reason we split up in the first place.”
“Rodger Wells. The blond-haired, green-eyed construction worker who got killed on the job?”
“Yes, that Rodger Wells.”
“Is it not, in fact, true that Rodger stole Claire from you, and you were furious? When he died, you tried your luck again, offering Claire a shoulder to cry on. But she wasn’t interested. When the tragic accident with Miss Wells and the young Mr. Bannerman happened, you saw an opportunity for revenge? But even then, Claire refused to turn to you. She was so consumed with grief over losing Rodger that she preferred to drown herself in a bottle rather than turn to you. Your frustration with Claire continued to grow, so when her daughter came back to sell her family home after years of your hatred festering, you snapped. You decided to punish Sorrow for her parentage. That, and you wanted her out of Tempest as fast as possible, so your lies and misdeeds around the accident wouldn’t come to light. And yet here we are anyway. No further questions, your honor.”
The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Even Stephenson looks gobsmacked by the turn of events.
Mr. Knowles gets to his feet and unbuttons his jacket before stepping around the desk. “You had a relationship with Claire Wells?”
“If you could call it that. Neither of us was serious about the other, despite what was just implied. Both of us were seeing other people. When Claire started dating Rodger, I simply moved on. I was a rookie looking to make my mark in the world. I didn’t have time for relationships anyway.”
“So it wasn’t some Romeo and Juliet-style love story?”
“Not even close. The only time I even questioned anything was years later when I was introduced to Sorrow through the Bannerman’s. It didn’t register until later who her mother was. It was Leanne who pointed out the similarities between me and Sorrow. She likes to stir the pot. She implied Claire named the baby Sorrow as a permanent reminder that I would forever be the one who got away. It was a crass comment with no foundation to it, but it did leave me wondering about what ifs.”
“You said you didn’t really know Sorrow. ‘I know of her, not know her.’ Those were your words, correct?”
“Yes, and they’re true. If anything, I made the effort to stay away from her even more after that.”
“You didn’t want to know if she was your daughter?”
“Her mother was an alcoholic. The people of Tempest barely tolerated her. How would it look if a police officer were the father of her baby?”
“So you cared more about how it looked than how your potential daughter was living with an alcoholic?”
“No, I knew that Sorrow wasn’t my daughter, because I had her tested. I had to be sure.”
And something tells me Sorrow knows none of this. Fuck.
Chapter Twenty-Six
SORROW
“I’m pretty sure you just went the wrong way, Arlo.”
“Huh? Oh yeah. I’m kidnapping you.”
“Interesting. Did you not want to tie me up, though, first?”
“No, I trust you not to escape.”
“You trust me? Aw, you’re too kind. I have to ask, am I the first girl you’ve kidnapped?”
“What? Oh no, you’re not my first.”
“Bummer. I’m your favorite, though, right?”
