Isabel picked that moment to flounce down the stairs in a long ivory robe. Silk satin with the same color of intricate embroidery on the ends of the sleeves. Delicate. Dramatic. Expensive. La Perla. Mine. A gift I gave myself after I found out Lukas started dating another attorney in his office.
It happened more than two years ago. I was struggling to get the last twelve pounds of baby weight off and coming to terms with my new exhausted,always running behind and feeling like a failurenormal. She was blond and stunning. Younger, not long out of law school, with far less baggage than I lugged around on a daily basis. News of the relationship sliced through me in a near-killing blow.
I loved him. I couldn’t figure out how to stop loving him.
The dating fizzled but my consolation robe remained. Mom had found it. Figured. It matched the expensive perfume she asked me to buy her every Christmas. She appreciated a splurge more than any person I’d ever met.
“Why are you all here?” She sounded outraged at the interruption to her evening. Never mind her guest status in the house. She was in fullhow dare they?mode.
Clearly unimpressed, Marni leaned her head against the cushion on the back of her chair. “It’s been a long night.”
I wasn’t in the mood for a round of Isabel Clarke disdain either. “It’s fine, Mom. You can go to bed.”
She frowned and ignored me. Actually walked farther into the room. To the dead center and best vantage point for attention. “I’m not a child. I’m capable of joining a conversation.”
It was going to be that kind of night. “We’re not—”
“When did you get to Patrick and Victoria’s house?” Hanna jumped right in with the question. No warning, which likely was the objective.
Mom sneered without actually making eye contact with Hanna. “What are you talking about?”
Hanna, not one to be ignored or to back down—neither of which I knew until we started spending more time together recently—got up. She sauntered over, nice and slow, until she stood in front of Mom. “That day. When we now know Patrick was killed.”
Mom waved her hand in front of her face while she stepped back. “Stop this. We have no idea when he was killed.”
Marni made a strangled sound. “Actually...”
Hanna didn’t give up. “Aubrey told me you were at the house the day of the disappearances. All of us, Cam, Lukas, and you.”
“I most certainly was not.” Mom’s tone carried a haughty note. She’d entered the stage and refused to relinquish the spotlight to questions she didn’t want to answer.
I should stop this. We were tired and frustrated and desperate to connect dots that jumped around and disappeared at whim. But watching someone take on Mom without an ounce of worry about being socially blackballed or whispered about at charity functions proved oddly enjoyable.
Hanna worked in a quick eye roll before verbally marching forward again. “Were you with Xavier that day?”
Mom’s chin lifted. “This is not an appropriate conversation.”
“Why?” Marni asked.
Mom shifted away. Moved to stand behind Marni’s chair as if the combination of the woman and the furniture would blunt Hanna’s demands. “There’s a child upstairs.”
“It’s a simple question, Isabel.”
Yeah, from that response Hanna was all out offucks. She demanded answers from a woman who parried and avoided for a living.
Mom scoffed. “Do you know another type?”
“Mom!” That was too much.
Hanna smiled. “It’s okay. I really don’t care what Isabel thinks of me. Never have.”
The game Mom played as the informal and self-appointed town matriarch had run its course. She wouldn’t have the funds to keep up the ruse. She’d be fine if she followed a budget like the rest of us, but that was as likely as me ever getting my favorite robe back.
Isabel lifted her chin high enough to hit the ceiling. “I have never given you permission to call me—”
“Fine.” Hanna’s loud sigh cut through Mom’s indignation.“Ms. Clarke. Ma’am. When did you get to Patrick and Victoria’s house that day?”
“I will not be bullied.” Mom grabbed on to the chair’s fabric as she spoke. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into the padding.
