My eyes burned. I blinked away tears. "I didn't know where else to go. You're the only one who will talk to me. I don't know what to do."
"Sit," Rowan said. "I'll be right back."
I sank into the couch, still shivering. I hunched forward, arms wrapped tightly around my ribcage, making myself small. Part performance, part real. I hadn't slept, hadn't eaten. My bones were vibrating inside my skin.
Rowan returned a few minutes later with two steaming mugs with gold rims. She handed me one and set hers down on the white oak coffee table. "Jasmine Hibiscus. You'll love it."
The mug was heavy in my hands. Heat seeped into my stiff fingers. I held it close to my chest and let the steam warm my face. "Thank you."
She disappeared into the kitchen and appeared again with a plateof warmed focaccia drizzled with honey. She set one beside me and seated herself on the linen armchair opposite me.
"You haven't slept." Not a question, an assessment. Her gaze moved over my face like she was cataloging damage. "When did you eat last?"
"I don't remember."
She made a soft sound, sympathy or disapproval, I couldn't tell. "Tea and artisanal bread, then I'll make you something else if you're still hungry. You can't think straight if you're running on empty."
I hadn't seen my daughter in over twelve agonizing hours. Sleep eluded me entirely last night as I tossed and turned in my bed, plotting and planning, my mind racing in circles like a trapped animal.
"Chloe's devastated." Rowan's fingertips traced the rim of her mug. "She hasn't been sleeping, either. Keeps replaying it in her head, wishing she'd never suggested the photoshoot, never planned the party at all." A pause, perfectly timed. "She blames herself for what happened."
I kept my eyes on the tea and let her talk.
"I can't imagine what you're going through," she continued, leaning forward slightly. "With the arraignment. With everything."
Of course, she'd already heard. Rumors traveled fast in Blackthorn Shores.
"The detectives have new information." I watched her face. "Leah didn't die right away. She was alive after the fall."
Rowan's eyebrows rose in a flicker of surprise. "What?"
"She was unconscious for hours, that's why Mia and Chloe thought she was dead, but she woke up. She tried to crawl back up the bluff."
Rowan's hand went to her throat. "How tragic. Vivienne must be beside herself. Any mother would be. Poor Leah, suffering like that before she died."
"She didn't make it, though. Because someone got to her first."
Rowan went still. The only sound was the ticking clock and our breathing. "That's—that's terrible."
"Someone went back a few hours later. They climbed down the bluff and bashed her head in."
Rowan's fingers tightened on her mug. "Bashed—you mean?—"
"The ME says the wound couldn't have happened in the fall."
The fog pressed against the windows.
"And the police believe… what, exactly? That it was intentional? Not a heat-of-the-moment mistake?"
I nodded. My eyes stung. I let the tears spill, hot and ugly. I clutched the mug to my chest with both hands. "They're going to charge her with murder, not manslaughter. Murder in the first degree."
Her face stayed composed. "I'm so sorry, Dahlia. I can't imagine."
"The thing is, Mia isn't a killer. She never meant to hurt her best friend."
She took a sip of tea. "Children make terrible mistakes sometimes. Even the sweetest ones. We never truly know what other people are capable of, do we? Not even our own daughters."
I drew a stuttering breath. "I keep thinking there's something the police missed. Something that would help Mia."
