My daughter needed me.
I ran faster.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Police lights slashed through the darkness, bathing the street in pulses of crimson and cobalt. I sprinted through backyards along the bluff, staying low behind the trees, praying no motion lights would catch me, then headed east parallel to Driftwood Terrace.
I stood at Vivienne's door, chest heaving, my dress smudged with sand and dirt.
Vivienne opened the door and ushered me inside. Her home beckoned me in with its warm cream walls, fluffy throw rugs, and rustic wood beams overhead.
Leah's artwork covered every surface, her watercolors tacked to the fridge, charcoal sketches pinned above the overflowing bookshelves, a half-finished canvas of a field of daffodils propped against the stone fireplace.
"Mom!" Mia was up and in my arms before the door latched shut. I held her tight. Vivienne shuffled past me and sat at the dining room table. Mia and I followed hesitantly.
Daniel hovered near Viv, as if he wanted to protect her from something, maybe from Mia, maybe from me. Concern lined his face. His suit from the memorial was rumpled.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" he murmured.
She gave a tremulous nod.
"Thank you," I said to Vivienne. The words caught in my throat. "For letting her in. For..." I couldn't finish. For not turning her away, for showing grace I didn't deserve.
Vivienne didn't answer. Her phone rang. She stared at it sitting on the table by her elbow like it was something foreign she'd never seen before. Daniel cleared his throat. "It's your mother, Viv. I'll give her an update, don't worry."
He touched Vivienne's shoulder in support. She reached up and squeezed his hand. Then he took the phone and disappeared down the hallway, speaking quietly as his footsteps faded toward the back of the house.
They had always been warm and affectionate with each other. I was relieved that Viv still had Daniel to give her the support and comfort that I couldn't.
Viv broke the uncomfortable silence first, her voice flat. "Camille said they're going to arrest Mia."
I felt like I might faint. My arms tightened around my daughter.
At least, I'd had the foresight to move the bloodied rock. At least the police wouldn't find it in Mia's room tonight. There was that.
"Did you find something?" Mia whispered.
I reached into my purse, tugged out the Nikon D780, and set it on the table.
Mia stared at the yellow strap, the souvenir buttons. "My camera."
My gaze was on Viv, begging her to understand, to give us a chance. "Peyton buried it on the beach the morning Leah died."
"Mom, I don't think?—"
"We're out of time, Mia." I looked at Vivienne. "Can we use your laptop?"
"Of course." Vivienne was already up and moving toward her office. A minute later, we huddled around the kitchen table as Vivienne connected the camera to her laptop via USB.
The screen came to life. I navigated to the folders for the night of the slumber party.
Sweet, smiling faces filled the screen. Girls with their long leanarms wrapped around each other, girls with dazzling white smiles and perfectly coiffed hair, girls in floaty, frilly dresses, so beautiful they made my chest ache. Chloe and Zara, Peyton, Alexis, Leah. A few of Mia, probably taken by Chloe or Leah.
"Talk me through these," I said.
Mia seemed to shrink into herself. "These are from the beginning of the night... here's everyone getting ready at Chloe's... these are from later, when we did the photoshoots in our dresses before dinner, then the midnight photoshoot..."
I scrolled forward. Chloe's blonde hair glistening in the moonlight, her dress a red smear. Leah balanced on the lip of the bluff with her face turned away, staring somberly out across the water. Beautiful, dark, shimmery photos.
