I considered this for a second, seeing the desperation on Victoria’s face. “I’ll keep it to myself. For now,” I told her carefully, guarded.
Victoria’s fingers moved to her head, massaging another incoming headache.
“I should go,” I said. I grabbed my bag from the ground. I had gone from zero leads to several in just this one conversation and had a lot to look into. I’d also have to find some time to visit Will and find out why he’d kept his correspondence with Victoria from me.
“Going so soon?” Victoria asked sarcastically. I didn’t respond. I stood up from the rocking chair at the exact moment a silver Lexus SUV pulled into the driveway.
“Shit.” Victoria was instantly out of her chair.
It took a couple seconds for me to process what was going on. Victoria practically pushing me off the patio; Mrs. Hopely climbing out of the driver’s seat of the SUV, her face tight with rage.
“Mom,” Victoria started, walking toward her mother as I headed for the side of the house, “listen—”
“What isshedoing here?” Mrs. Hopely was seething, her face turning pink as she glared in my direction. She looked a lot older than I remembered. Like she had aged twenty years in seven. Her golden-brown hair, the hair she’d given to her girls, had two inches of grey roots, and her face was lined and worn. I guess it made sense. She’d been through so much.
I didn’t want to have this confrontation now, or ever really. I quickened my pace, moving toward the trees in between our homes, but Mrs. Hopely was faster, pushing past her daughter and walking right behind me.
“You aredisgusting.” Spittle flew from her mouth as she pushed into my space and stopped me in my tracks.
“Mom!” Victoria pleaded. “Please. Stop. It isn’t worth—”
“Disgusting!” Mrs. Hopely shouted directly into my face. She was shaking with rage. “I wish the very worst for you! Do you know that?”
“Mom, please,” Victoria begged again, grabbing her left arm. “Come on. Let’s just go.”
But she couldn’t restrain her mother. Mrs. Hopely was too furious.
“It should’ve been you.” Her voice crescendoed and broke. “I have spent every night since that insipid book came out wishing it was you who were dead. You’re going toburnfor what you did!”
And then her hand collided with the side of my face.
15
My face stung the entire walk back home.
Of all the ways I’d pictured my reunion with the Hopelys going, getting bitch-slapped by Mrs. Hopely had never made the list. I should’ve expected it, though. I understood why Mrs. Hopely hated me, especially now that I was living out a similar nightmare with Hazel. Empathy hurt like hell.
My phone vibrated in my pocket as I approached the back door.
I had several texts from Marta and Flannery. A few others from “friends” back in the city and some journalists I knew on an acquaintance level. I scrolled past them all until I found the ones from my family. It was weird. It had been years since I’d actively waited for texts from any of them.
Suzannah:
I tried to call you but it went to voicemail. Detective Pullman called. They want to talk to the family again. The entire family. We’re meeting at the station in Royal Palm Beach now. Come when you can.
Mom:
Do you ever answer your phone?
I could practically hear my mother’s grating, condescending tone. I texted Suzannah back first:
Are you still at the station?
She texted back immediately.
Yes and please hurry. Your mother keeps asking about you and she’s driving me insane.
I’d been there enough times over the years to know where the sheriff’s office was without directions. Didn’t matter how long I’d been away. The building was nestled in the same parking lot as a Denny’s.
