The comments kept multiplying, refreshing faster than I couldread. I locked the screen, dropped the phone onto the counter like it had burned me. My vision blurred.
It's always the mother's fault.
Were they right?
Ihadpushed Mia toward those girls. Ihadwanted to belong so badly I'd ignored every warning sign. Now Leah was dead. And my daughter was in serious trouble.
I forced myself to focus. To think. To act.Just breathe.
The rock waited for me. That was what was important. That's what I had to focus on, not random strangers who'd already condemned Mia and me.
While the brownies baked, I collected a Zip-top freezer bag from the drawer along with paper towels and a pair of dishwashing gloves from a box under the sink, not perfect but better than using my bare hands.
I checked the doors one last time. Then I went upstairs to look in on my daughter. Apollo lay curled in a furry ball at the foot of her bed. He raised his head when I entered, then chuffed and settled back to sleep.
Mia had kicked the comforter downward, one leg out, the other tucked beneath a pillow. A strand of hair stuck to her mouth. The glow from her charger made a blue square on the wall. She clutched the stuffed sloth in both arms. She was fourteen and also four, soft and unguarded.
I fixed the blanket. She stirred and settled.
I stayed until my own breathing matched hers. My chest ached. This child came from me. She was my flesh, my beating heart. She was everything.
I watched her, my hand pressed against my chest, Marcus's ring warm beneath my fingers. He'd have known what to do. He'd have had answers. I let the ring drop back beneath my shirt. I had work to do.
Moving to the windowsill, I used the gloves to carefully lift the rock and place it within the freezer bag. I stepped back, careful where I set my feet. The windowsill was bare now except for the beachstones and sea glass. The gap where the rock had been like a missing tooth.
Back in the kitchen, I opened the cleaning cabinet, filled with bleach, vinegar, and old sponges crammed into a plastic caddy. I could hide the rock behind the tall bottle of ammonia or the roll of extra trash liners wedged at the very back.
A police search would find it within minutes.
I closed the cabinet. No, not here. Not anywhere they'd look.
When the timer dinged, I removed the brownies from the oven and set them to cool on the cooktop. The kitchen filled with their rich, decadent scent. It turned my stomach. I had no appetite, only a grim resolve.
I thought of the other mothers and how quickly they closed ranks to protect their daughters. How I'd judged them for it, felt superior in my pursuit of truth.
Now here I stood, evidence held in my hand.
The hypocrisy burned in my throat like acid.
I was becoming exactly what I condemned in the other mothers. The realization sat heavy in my chest. I hated it. Despised myself.
Did I have a choice?
I couldn't go to the police, not knowing someone was actively plotting against us. What did it matter if we had truth on our side if no one believed us?
I was Mia's mother. I would do this to protect my child.
I couldn't leave it here to be discovered. I couldn't destroy it, either. It might be the only thing that could prove someone else had harmed Leah. How could I ever face Vivienne and Daniel, or Mia, or myself, for that matter, if I did that?
I couldn't get rid of evidence. That's what criminals did. That's what monsters did.
My hands moved before I'd fully formed the plan. I pulled on my jean jacket, grabbed a flashlight and Apollo's leash. The dog came bounding down the stairs, his tail wagging hopefully.
"Come on, boy. We're going for a walk."
The chilly night air bit my face as we slipped out the back door.The neighborhood slept around us, houses dark and silent, as I locked the door and headed down Wyld Wood Lane toward Cliff Harbor Drive. The streetlamps cast their orange glow across empty sidewalks.
I'd walked these streets hundreds of times since we'd moved here, Apollo pulling me along on his explorations. I knew every path, every shortcut, every nook and cranny, including the massive oak at the edge of the community playground, the one with the hollow halfway up its trunk that I'd noticed days ago when Falcon had played fetch with Apollo.
