Olivia stared at her, waiting for her to continue. But Marigold seemed to have gone somewhere else, a distant look in her eyes. Olivia whirled around to face Natalie.
“And you knew this the whole time?”
“No, she lied to me, too, at first. I only found out she was in Canada when her flight back was canceled last night.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Olivia said. “You just decided it’d be better to lie to my face? Lie to myfamily?”
“I promised Marigold,” Natalie said quietly.
“You don’t get to make that kind of decision. This has nothing to do with you! I can’t believe you kept me in the dark about all—I thought we were on the same side.”
“Don’t yell at her,” Marigold said, her focus returning. “This isn’t her fault. Now will you please leave me alone so I can findmy fiancé and figure out whether we’re still getting married in forty-five minutes?”
“Leave you alone to figure it out?” Olivia repeated. “Of course. I’m sure that’ll go well.”
Marigold winced as if Olivia had slapped her. And suddenly, she no longer looked like a woman whose wedding was about to be shrouded in scandal. She looked like a little girl who’d been too afraid to tell anyone she’d broken the cookie jar, and had gotten caught hiding the pieces.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia said. “That wasn’t helpful. I just… I just wish you’d told me about this. I could’ve helped you. Or at least managed the situation better.”
“See, that’s you wanting to control everything again.” Natalie clocked Olivia’s irritated expression and reddened. “Sorry, not the time.”
Olivia turned back to Marigold and sighed. “This is such a mess. What are we going to tell Mom? She was really looking forward to this.”
“Oh, come on.” Marigold looked pained again. “Mom would be horrified to hear you trying to guilt-trip me like that. She has other things to look forward to: there’s that Morocco trip with Bill at the end of the summer, and Christmas in the Cotswolds. And her art show in the spring.”
Each of the events Marigold rattled off plunged into Olivia like a knife. There would be no Morocco trip. By the time Lulu’s art show went up, her biography would be written in the past tense.Lulu Harding (née Levinson),1964–2026, was an American artist…
“None of that is happening,” Olivia said quietly. It was time to come clean, even if that meant breaking her promise to Luluand Bill. Marigold deserved better.Oliviadeserved better—she couldn’t carry the weight of this on her own any longer.
“Mom only has a few months to live. She stopped treatment earlier this year. I’m so sorry, Mare.”
Whenever Olivia had heard the expression “the blood drained from her face,” she’d assumed it was a figure of speech. She’d never actually seen anyone turn white until this very moment, as she watched the color leave Marigold’s skin in real time.
“No,” Marigold said in a voice that made Olivia long for the days when she could fix her little sister’s problems with a Band-Aid or a bedtime story. “That’s not true. You’re just trying to punish me.” On her other side, Natalie stood with her eyes closed, her lips moving slightly, almost as if she was whispering to herself. Or praying.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia repeated. “You weren’t supposed to find out this way.”
“How long have you known?” Marigold asked as she slumped down to sit on an overturned tree stump.
“A few months. Mom was going to tell you after the wedding.”
“And you agreed? You thought this is what I would’ve wanted? That I’mthatself-absorbed?”
“I don’t know what I thought,” Olivia admitted. “I didn’t agree with their decision, but I didn’t think I had a choice. It’s what Mom wanted, and I thought…” She lifted the hem of her dress so she could navigate the remainder of the stairs without tripping, and then made her way over to Marigold. “I guess I wanted to spare you the pain for as long as possible.” She placed a hand on her shoulder, but Marigold shrugged it away.
“I wouldn’t have taken so many trips… I wouldn’t have…” Asob tore through Marigold, and she buried her face in her hands.
“Mare…” Olivia tried again to wrap her arm around her sister, but Marigold jumped to her feet.
“Just stay away from me. Both of you.” She shoved past Olivia and nearly elbow-checked Natalie on her way up the stairs.
“Wait,” Olivia called after her. “You can’t go through the lobby looking like that. People will wonder why you’re not dressed.”
“Oh, ‘people will wonder,’ will they? Fine.” She ran back down the stairs, jogged over to the chain-link fence that separated the garden from the woods behind the inn, and began to climb.
“Marigold, come on, don’t be ridiculous!” Olivia shouted. “You can’t just run away…again.”
But her sister was already gone.
