“I’m telling you now. And it couldn’t wait.” His voice softens slightly. “Samantha, I know this is hard. But your mother deserves justice. The Hales destroyed everything she built. They killed her as surely as if they’d pulled a trigger. You can’t lose sight of that.”
The guilt crashes over me again. Mom. The whole reason I’m here. The reason I spent a year planning this with Robert.
Except I’m not sure they destroyed her business anymore. I’m not sure about anything except that I’m drowning in lies and don’t know how to surface.
“What time?” I ask.
“Seven. The Lakeside Restaurant is in the main resort building. It’ll be crowded enough that no one will notice us, but we can talk privately.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
“Good girl. And Samantha? Don’t tell them you’re meeting me. This stays between us.”
“I understand.”
“See you tonight.”
The call ends, and I’m left staring at my reflection in the dark window.
28
KAI
I findSamantha in the library, curled up in the armchair by the window with her knees pulled to her chest.
Her phone sits face down on the side table. She’s staring out at the darkening sky, watching snow fall in the last rays of sunlight. The Christmas lights strung around the room cast warm shadows across her face, but she looks cold. Distant.
“Hey.” I walk in quietly, not wanting to startle her. “You okay?”
She turns her head slowly, like she’s coming back from somewhere far away. “Hi. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” I settle onto the arm of the sofa across from her. “You look like someone just told you the world’s ending.”
“Maybe it is.” She tries to smile but it crumbles immediately. “Sorry. That’s dramatic.”
“What happened?” I lean forward. “You were laughing with us an hour ago during dinner. Now you look like you want to disappear.”
She wraps her arms tighter around herself. “I’m just tired. The pregnancy makes everything feel overwhelming.”
“Is it just the pregnancy?”
Her eyes flick to mine, then away. “What else would it be?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” I move to sit on the ottoman in front of her chair, close enough that she can’t avoid looking at me. “Talk to me, Sam. What’s going on in that head of yours?” I tug her forward until she slides off the chair and onto the ottoman with me. “You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”
She leans into me, and I wrap my arms around her.
“I don’t deserve this,” she says against my chest.
“Deserve what?”
“You. All of you. This life. Any of it.”
I pull back enough to look at her face. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I’m not—” She stops herself, shaking her head. “I’m just not the person you think I am.”
“Then tell me who you really are.”
