When I finally saw it, her face was a turmoil of relief and fear. The distance closed between us, and every stride was fueled by raw, maternal need.
"Get back to the house!" I ordered, though my voice wavered with the force of my own emotions. “It’s not safe out here.”
"Mom, I—" Her words were torn away, lost to the wind.
"Olivia, now!" There was no time for discussion, only action, only survival.
The gap between us shrank to nothing, and I wrapped Olivia in my arms. The thunder’s rage became a distant drumbeat against the cocoon of our embrace.
"Mom," she gasped, her breath warm on my neck.
"Here now, it's okay." My words were firm, a lifeline in the chaos.
"Everything's spinning," she murmured, clutching me tighter. “It’s out of control, Mom. I don’t know what to do.”
"Focus on my voice, Liv. Just on my voice." I smoothed her hair, matted by the rain.
She nodded against my chest, her body trembling.
"You have to stop running from me. I’m here to help you. Let’s talk. But first, let's get out of this weather."
I peeled back to see her face, scanning for that spark of resilience I knew so well. She nodded.
We turned, side by side, and charged toward the shelter of the resort, leaving footprints that the waves would soon claim. Our race against nature, against time itself, propelled us forward. The wind howled its protest, but we were relentless.
"Keep going!" I shouted over the tempest's fury.
"I’m right behind you," she called back, her voice steady now, steel lacing her words.
We burst through the threshold into the sanctuary of the resort. But even as the door closed to the bungalow, sealing away the wind’s violence, I felt the weight of the truth heavy in my heart.
"Mom?"
I turned to Olivia, my resolve a silent vow in the space between us.
"I believe in you. I know you didn’t hurt Mark. We'll find the answers, sweetheart. We'll make this right."
Her nod, slight but certain, sealed our pact. The storm outside raged on, and within me, I wondered how on earth I would be able to do this. How would I prove my daughter’s innocence when everything pointed to her being guilty?
Chapter31
THEN:
"Marcus, might I steal you away for a moment?" Victoria's voice was soft yet carried an undertone that brooked no refusal. It was just before dinner in the main house when Marcus had gone outside for a breath of fresh air. Isla was still helping her aunt unpack, and he was eagerly waiting for her. She was different somehow than she had been before the summer when they had met up for Easter in the Hamptons, and it worried him. She had spent the first few weeks with Javier, her best friend, and he could see the affection glowing in her eyes as she spoke about him and the fun they’d had. Marcus was no fool and could sense that something was going on.
Victoria gestured toward a narrow path leading away from the main house, its white stone facade glinting in the late afternoon sun.
Marcus nodded, his gaze briefly meeting hers before scanning the expanse of the ocean behind her.
“Of course, Mrs. Walton. Lead the way," he said, his voice a deep rumble.
The path to the cliffside was framed by wildflowers and tall grasses that swayed in the ocean breeze. The sound of waves crashing against jagged rocks grew louder with each step they took, promising privacy that the estate's manicured lawns could not.
Victoria began without preamble as they walked side by side, her eyes fixed on the horizon.
“What’s going on, Mrs. Walton?”
"Isla is at a crossroads," she said, her tone even as if discussing something as trivial as the weather. "She needs the kind of stability only certain… traditions can offer."
