Chapter Fifty-Seven
Maya
August 2023
It’s the day of Kai’swedding, and Nate and I have set off for the St. Clair estate, where Margaret is hosting the event. The couple and their close friends will all be staying the night, so we’ve packed an overnight bag and plan to leave Dani with Daisy’s au pair.
Dani is humming quietly in the back as she listens to music in her big over-ear headphones. Nate is driving, his Ford SUV more comfortable than my sedan. The yellow lines of the road tick by, illuminated by the headlights as the car cuts through the morning mist. When I told Nate about Matthew threatening our daughter, a side of him I rarely saw showed itself. “If he gets anywhere near her again, I’ll kill him,” he’d said.
Now Nate turns off the highway, past a sign that readsWelcome to Connecticut. I roll down the window, letting the cool morning air rush in.
“You doing okay?” Nate asks.
Before I answer, my new phone rings in the center console. The ring is unfamiliar, the default iPhone setting, and I’m still getting used to the fact that I’d had to replace the one I’d lost when Matthew attacked me. I look at the caller ID and see it’s Detective Gary.
“Detective?”
“Ms. Banks. We have some news. We reviewed the CCTV footage at Broadway Junction and can confirm that a man attacked you. Unfortunately, his face was hidden from view.” My heart sinks. “But…we found Sara Vail’s car at a gas station on I-95, five miles outsidePrinceton, during the time she said she was with him—she wasn’t actually home. Seeing as Mr. DuPont no longer has an alibi for your sister’s time of death, he is now a person of interest.”
—
The back lawnis already teeming with hundreds of guests, stifling hot. I shiver despite the heat, despite the sweat dripping down the small of my back. One foot, then the other.The detectives are on it. Matthew is going to prison.I focus on that thought as my feet tread over the fresh-cut grass, willing it into existence as I follow Nate into the ceremony.
A pergola arches over the space, bursting with roses and purple wisteria. Waiters bustle about with silver trays and hors d’oeuvres. We’re taking our seats when Daisy rushes over. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“What’s wrong? Are the girls okay?” I ask, worried about Dani. She’d thrown a fit when we’d left her with Daisy’s au pair.
“They’re fine,” Daisy says. “But—look, I got in touch with Marta. I know you told me not to but I had to try. You were right. Naomiwasasking her about Lila. Marta didn’t want to talk to me at first, but eventually she admitted that Naomi had asked for her help. I reminded her that Naomi’s death is now being investigated as a potential murder, and that something she knows could help put away her killer. That’s when Marta told me that she hasthe security camera footage.”
I stare at her. “What security camera footage?”
“The video. From the ski trip.”
I stare at Daisy, and before I can process the information, her husband, Scott, appears next to her and a rustling of movement sweeps through the crowd as guests stand around us. My chest feels tight as I stand with them and turn to watch Kai make her way down the back steps. It spreads down my torso into my ribs as Daisy’s words sink in:The video. The camera we’d left at the cabin.It might have evidence of what happened the night Lila died…
I can feel my heartbeat in my throat.The video.I can’t believe Marta had it this whole time. I clutch the side of my seat, trying to keep it together. We have to get her to send us that video.
Kai appears in a white silk gown at the end of the aisle. The groom, Marcus, looks calm, present as the quartet plays a bridal march and Kai makes her way toward him. During the rest of the ceremony, I find it hard to focus, and afterward, escape to the house to get away from the crowd.
I’m catching my breath in the living room when I hear two people arguing upstairs. I follow the sound of their voices until, from the second-floor landing, I make out a bright line of light seeping from beneath the door at the end of the hall.
Peering into the crack in the door, I gasp at the sight.
It’s Matthew.
His face is red, and his hands are folded in front of him, his eyes on the ground as his fiancée, Sara, talks animatedly, her back to me, clearly upset. She stops abruptly, her hand gripping the red leather chair as if for support. Matthew doesn’t move. From here I can see the tension between them, the stiffness of his stance, the way he’s flexing his jaw.
She must know that he’s a suspect in my sister’s case. That he attacked me the other night. She has plenty to be upset about.
She says something I can’t make out and reaches for him violently, as if to strike him. But just as her hand nears his face, he seizesit.
“Not now,” he replies, tightly. “We’ll talk later.”
I’m taking another step closer, straining to hear, when the floor creaks.
Matthew looks directly at me and my heart lurches.No no no.I take a step away, and another, before I turn and run.
—
