“In deep,” I say. “With a group from Chicago. Something serious. He asked me to give him information about Mak’s operations. He threatened me, and he threatened Andrea.”
The last part lands like a blow. Katherine covers her mouth with her hand, inhaling sharply. She might be a shitty sister, but she’s also a mother. She gets it.
“Oh, my God.”
“Exactly.”
“You didn’t tell me that part yesterday.”
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
“You should have,” she says, hands shaking. “Because that’s…Roxy, that’s not something you handle alone.”
“I’m not alone.” I rub my palms together, suddenly aware of how cold they’ve become despite the temperate summer evening. “Mak has men watching the house day and night. Andi’s school too.”
Katherine looks at the front door again as if she’s expecting someone else to barge in. “So that’s why they…?”
“Yes.”
She leans back, exhausted, then rubs her eyes. “This is insane. All of it.”
“Welcome to my life,” I say wryly.
She huffs something that isn’t quite a laugh. “You should have told me everything. All of this. Weeks ago. I wish you’d trust me, Rox.”
That stings, but I let it sit.
For a long moment, the only sound is the river outside, rushing steadily past the cottage. Summer air lingers in the air, carrying the scent of warm pine and damp earth.
Katherine exhales. “I’m sorry!” she yelled.
“A bodyguard grabbed you. You’re allowed.”
Her gaze softens just a little. “You really trust them?”
“I trust him,” I say quietly. “Which is part of the problem.”
Kat studies me, and her expression shifts into something I rarely see from her—uncertainty. The careful unraveling of a truth she’s kept knotted for years.
“You want to know why I married David?” she asks suddenly.
The question catches me off guard. “Kat, you don’t?—”
“I do. Because you need to understand why I am the way I am.” She looks away, eyes fixed on a framed photo of Andrea on the wall. I wonder if she knows about the conversation Mom and I had when she was up here a few weeks ago; if she knows Mom told me just enough for a soft spot to start forming.
“I was the responsible one,” she begins. “The one who balanced budgets, the one who covered Mom’s mortgage when all the hospital bills were adding up, the one who made sure we never lost the house after Dad died. You were allowed to breathe. Explore. Live. You got to go to college and think about what you wanted todowith your life.”
I swallow. “I didn’t know you felt like that.”
“Of course you didn’t,” she says softly. “You were young. Mom never wanted you to worry.”
Her voice thins, edges cracking. “When David proposed, it felt like the answer. Stability. Wealth. A way to make sure none of us would ever struggle again. I thought… if I said yes, it wouldfix everything.” She laughs bitterly. “Except it didn’t. I married a man I didn’t love, and he doesn’t love me either. We both know that, and he’s not…” she shakes her head at the stricken look on my face “…he’s not bad, Roxy, and he’s good with Peter. We’re in this polite relationship with each other. It’s really just a business transaction masquerading as marriage.”
My chest tightens. “Oh, Kat.”
“For years I told myself you were the reckless one,” she whispers, “but the truth is, I was jealous. You have always chosen your life. I chose mine because I thought I had no other choice.”
The room suddenly feels too small. It’s heavy with memories and confessions we’ve never spoken aloud. “I’m sorry,” I say.
