Page 73 of The Quiet After The Fall

But there’s nothing here. No response from my father anywhere, at least not from this file. No revised plans, no second report, no invoices for extra piling or a geological recheck. Fucking nothing.

I press the heel of my forehead and sit with this shitstorm. The lake’s gone dark enough that I can’t tell where the water ends and the tree line starts. Not far beyond all that quiet, Velocity’s still standing, fenced off, waiting for someone to decide what to do with it. And the whole time, I suspected the worst thing my father did was let an old friend take the fall for money he stole.

The way Moretti phrased it that night, my father wasn’t entirely the victim. This is so much bigger than that. Could Moretti know about this too?

My phone buzzes, dragging me from my spiral. It’s Ella again. I don’t want to answer, but I can’t prolong it anymore.

“Finally,” she says. There’s voices in the background but I can’t make them out. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I’m at the lake. I needed a quiet place to work and my phone died.”

A half truth. It should keep her from asking questions.

“You could have told me. Would have saved us all a lot of stress. My father had some of his employees searching for you after I called him worried. We were close to calling the cops.”

“Jesus,” I say, my stomach dropping at the mention of Moretti being alerted. “That’s a little overkill, Ella.”

“Well, what do you expect when you disappear for twenty-four hours?”

I grip the back of my neck, massaging the tense muscles there. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

She sighs and I know I’ve won. “Apology accepted, but only because I got good news.”

Voices grow closer and Ella must be pulling her mouth away from the phone. I catch a few words. He’s on the phone. I’m about to tell him.

Then the background noise disappears, replaced by the thunk of a door closing.

“Knox.” It’s Moretti. I’m so fucked. “You should be here with the family. Your mother-in-law makes amazing manicotti.”

He sounds casual, like we’re old friends playing catch up. I’m so fucked.

“Sorry, I’m swamped with work. Raincheck, I guess. Where’d Ella go?”

“Getting dessert.” He pauses and as I’m about to speak he continues. “You hear the news yet?”

“News?” I wrack my brain but can’t think of anything that would involve him. “What news?”

“I made a few calls. Moved things up. No sense waiting until spring when we already have a party planned at the end of summer. Same tent, same guest list, same date.”

Did I hear him wrong? I can’t be sure from my pulse roaring in my ears. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying the wedding’s been moved up. One month from today—August 25th. Isn’t that wonderful?”

I can’t speak. My mind is trying to wrap around what he just said and it refuses. One month? There’s no way this is happening.

“I-I—uh⁠—”

“Save your excuses for my daughter.” His nice guy facade is over, this is the same voice I heard that night in the city. “I warned you, Aldrich. Gave you chance after chance to leave the Thorne girl alone.”

“Thorne? Haven’t seen her. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He laughs and my balls shrivel up. “What’s her address again? Oh, that’s right, those run-down apartments on the east side. Garden Rentals, I believe.”

“No.”

“Works at the inn, takes classes at ACC? All that ring a bell?”

“Please. I’ll stop seeing her. Leave her out of this.”