“You don’t think so right now, but you’re a good mother. Trust me. I’ve seen a lot of the opposite. I’m a reluctant expert on this sort of thing.”
Hanna’s hand dropped to her side as her focus switched back to me. “Since when do you care about me or my feelings?”
Not angry or an accusation. She sounded more confused than anything else.
“You’re not the only one in the room who’s made bad choices, Hanna.” We’d both made them that day fifteen years ago and many times before and after. I craved absolution and understanding. Whether she wanted the same or not, I gave them to her. “You’re human.”
She plunked down on the arm of the chair as she stared at her cell screen. “I feel like a failure. A terrible person. A shitty mom.”
“One thing I’ve learned on the job—people who worry about being terrible people usually aren’t.”
She wiped her face. Choked back tears. “I think Jeremy would disagree with you.”
She deserved better than this. She deserved better than the cyclone of chaos Xavier had let loose on her life. I didn’t need details. I knew him and had experienced his destructive nature.
“When you were trying to reach Jeremy to talk to him and protect him, his first worry wasn’t about your messing up his social calendar or calling him too many times. It was for you. He worried you needed him and came running. Even now, you’re worried about him driving so he doesn’t. That’s a good kid. My guess is he has a good mom.”
I knew that last part to be true. People talked. I’d seen them together for years. Watched her maneuver through a thick layer of belittling and sneering from Victoria and her friends, but even the most discerning parents and teachers admitted Hanna and Jeremy had beaten the odds.
She continued to fiddle with her cell, cradling it like it was a lifeline. “Why are you being nice to me?”
I couldn’t help it. Maybe I owed her. An answer that was as confusing to me as it was to her. So, I skipped a real response. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“It’s going to take all I have not to rush downstairs and beg for his forgiveness.”
“He’s an adult now. At his age you were a mom.”
“The thought of him...”
I put my hand over hers and felt the tremors running through it. “You’re going to be okay. So is he.”
“I wish I believed you.”
“We’re going to need each other, so believe.” Because this was just the beginning.
Aubrey’s face in the attorney’s office. No surprise or anger. Shedidn’t issue threats or stomp around. She’d known about Xavier’s provisions in advance. From the attorney or maybe from Xavier himself. Somehow. That was the only explanation for her calm demeanor.
That meant one thing. Aubrey was in charge, and she was going to dismantle our lives piece by piece. I could almost see her, sitting somewhere, lounging and gloating over Hanna’s distress.
Aubrey won this round. She couldn’t win another.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Marni
Hanna asked us to meet her. If she planned to confess to something, she’d picked the ultimate dramatic place to do it. Xavier’s house. Maybe it was more correct to say his former house. Now Jeremy’s house, or soon to be. A fact that still rattled around in my brain, refusing to take hold.
A textile tycoon built the Gilded Age mansion as a summer retreat. He amassed his grand fortune with the help of unrestricted child labor, then used some of that money to stockpile an expensive art collection and acquire numerous stately houses, including this three-story monstrosity with a grand staircase reminiscent of the one on theTitanic. That level of opulent living hadn’t turned out so great for the rich industrialists who went down with the ship either.
Patrick grew up here. Victoria coveted the place. It promised a level of security she craved. When Xavier plucked her out of the employee pool and gave her more responsibilities, and ultimately introduced her to Patrick, her survival instincts kicked in. She’dgrabbed the opportunity. I didn’t know her at the beginning of her marriage, but I couldn’t blame her. With the money and the Tanner family name her fears about not having enough or being one paycheck away from financial ruin ended.
Admittedly, the house did have some charm on the outside. It was impressive in an old money sort of way. The ornamental details. The eight bedrooms. The New England–style shingles covering the outside. But the interior wood paneling and intricately carved ceilings shadowed the house in gloomy darkness. A darkness that hinted at the pain festering here, hidden in the walls, growing like mold and infecting everything it touched.
I’d been inside a few times for events back when Patrick and Victoria borrowed the family estate for hosting lavish parties. Depending on the season, guests would mingle in the drawing room or on the property’s four acres, taking in the lush landscaping complete with gardens and flowering trees, a pool, a summer house used as an office, and a pond with a shed at the far edge.
Stella texted me about the Xavier-Hanna romance. We’d gone from barely speaking to a tenuous truce. A bond forged by the terrible secrets of one horrifying day. At heart, an alliance against Aubrey and whatever she planned to unleash.
Despite her flashyI want to helpexterior, my read of Stella was that she rarely thought of others without first thinking about what others could do for her. Being here, making me drive over, could mean she viewed Hanna as a weak link in our insidious adventure or a potential future problem. It could also mean Stella actually cared, which was an option hard to imagine.
