Will and I had only ten minutes together before the rest of my family joined us. Pullman had called them too. My parents and Hazel each hugged Will and comforted him. There were a lot of whispered apologies for not believing him or me. And Will, being Will, was loving and gracious through it all. My mother hugged him the longest, crying as she asked for forgiveness over and over in his ear. She didn’t move until my father physically removed her for his turn. She let him and made her way to me. I was standing off to the side.
“Rose,” she said carefully, wiping at her tears. “I’m not going to lie and say that I agree with every method you took over the years …”
“But?” I added, and a small smile appeared on her face.
“But …” she said. “I acknowledge that you were right, and that if I had been more open to listening to you, there might’ve been a world where it didn’t need to come to this. I’m willing to admit my faults.”
These were the words I had waited eleven years to hear her say. But they didn’t feel like vindication now. After everything that had happened, I didn’twant to be right. Or to fight with her anymore. I just wanted to fix it all. Everything I could, apart from Tommy.
No one could fix what he had done.
“It’s okay,” I told her, letting my mother pull me into a hug.
“Thank you,” she said finally, hugging me tighter. “For helping your brother. Especially when I couldn’t.”
I nodded, and when we broke apart, I watched her go back to Will, wrapping him in her arms again.
My family had a long road ahead of us. A road full of therapy and reconciliation, but it was possible. I was going to make damn sure.
Epilogue
Twenty Months Later
“That guy was definitely looking at me, Rosie.”
Despite having legs infinitely longer than mine, Will walked so much slower. He had yet to master the way New Yorkers navigated crowds. He moved out of the way of people, thought that everyone was looking at him; he took offense when people pushed past.
“He was not looking at you,” I told him. “He was looking atme.”
Will snorted. “Do you think you’re more famous than me, Rosie?”
“I know I am. I’ve been a public figure for years now. I’ve been on television, remember? And where have you been? Oh yeah, that’s right: in prison.”
“I don’t think those are things I can forget!” Will said, making light of it. From the moment he was released four months ago, he had eased his transition with humor. And therapy.Lotsof therapy.
We were lucky he’d gotten out so quickly. Sixteen months was practically unheard of, and in many ways was thanks to Pullman and the Hopelys. I hadn’t spoken to any of them since Cassandra’s visit to my backyard, but I had a feeling she had rallied them. The three sisters had even released a statement on Twitter, urging the Florida governor to release Will as soon as possible.
I had sent them each a letter. Only Victoria ever responded, but it comforted me to think that they all knew I was grateful.
Will had been released with a hefty settlement. Florida issues fifty thousand dollars for every year someone has been falsely imprisoned. After eleven years of imprisonment, his settlement had been well over half a milliondollars. The state didn’t share this news publicly; I could only imagine the outcry if they had. In the wake of Tommy’s arrest, people had trouble separating Tommy and Will. Rewarding Will was the right thing to do, but some people might feel like it was rewarding Tommy too. It didn’t matter that none of us had spoken to Tommy in over a year.
Since Will’s release, the family had made a conscious effort to see one another more. We all, me and Dad included, spent Thanksgiving in Tampa with Mom and Steve, which turned out to be surprisingly fun. We tried to make it special for Will and Hazel, and figure out how we were going to make our new family dynamic work. We never mentioned Tommy if we could avoid it. It wasn’t easy. Suzannah’s parents had taken their kids and moved to North Carolina. They had gotten full custody after Tommy’s life sentence and Suzannah’s thirteen years. My parents wanted to fight it, at least for visitation rights, but we were all exhausted. Suzannah’s parents answered only half of our texts and wouldn’t let anyone visit. It was killing my parents not to see their grandkids, but some part of me wondered if it was easier this way. For now, those kids probably needed a more stable environment than any of us could provide.
Tommy wrote us all frequently, and I kept all of his letters unopened in a drawer in my desk. I knew I would look at them eventually. Despite all of the horror that Tommy had caused in our lives, he was still my brother. But I needed time, and I didn’t know how much yet.
“Hazel texted me,” Will said now, smiling down at his phone. He was impressed with the latest iPhone I’d bought him. “She said she’s coming up next Thursday.”
I smiled. “I know. I just sent her the flight info yesterday.”
I had made good on my promise to reconnect with my sister. Despite my hatred of Florida, I had already been down three times to visit her and hadflown her up here one weekend every other month. We kept up with each other over texting and social media. I had also paid for her therapy, picking the most well-respected and expensive trauma therapist I could find down there. It was the least I could do.
Will and I had recently signed a seven-figure deal for a joint memoir. Therealstory of what happened in 2010, and the years following. We were going to explore everything this time: what Gary had done, Tommy’s involvement, life behind bars. We’d spent the last year and a half drafting it—with Hazel’s input, of course. Pullman would even write the afterword.
I had been hesitant to get back into it, but Marta had told me that if I didn’t write our story, someone else would. This was my opportunity to get it right. To tell the whole truth. It was to be my apology. To Alex. To Will. To Hazel. There was so much I hadn’t known when I wroteThe Smileys. And with Will’s and Hazel’s added perspective, it was easier than I’d expected.
Will and I bought a beautiful townhouse in Harlem. New York seemed like the best place for him to live. It was easier to blend in amongst millions of people. Hazel still hoped to attend college in the city. She wanted to move in with us the following year. We were excited to welcome her.
“She just laughed at my excessive emojis,” Will said, frowning at his phone screen.
