Margot’s demand for a homicide investigation around Ted’s death was granted, but it proved inconclusive. I was vocal about Rini’s act being nothing short of heroic. The other witnesses—Adam, Aimee and Farah—were mostly silent, each for their own reasons, but even hard interrogation could not produce compelling evidence that the events of that evening were anything more than a terrible accident fueled by alcohol and a raging tropical storm. I say it was fate.
Margot, on the other hand, had a whole sordid story of what had transpired that afternoon. The police tried to take her seriously, but she had too many strikes against her as an unreliable witness, including her blackouts that weekend and her distraught widowhood. In the end, her story of unseen connections and twisty acts of vengeance, while fascinating, didn’t hold water with the prosecution.
“Write a novel,” the detective said. “I hear it’s therapeutic.”
If she ever considered it, Margot didn’t say. But it stuck with me. Maybe I have a disturbing tale in me that’s almost ready to come out.
Over the first few weeks I asked myself whether Ted’s death was justice. Did he deserve to die because of what he did to me ten years ago? Did he deserve to die because, when confronted all these years later, he refused to admit his wrongdoing and suffer the consequences of his actions? Did he deserve to die because he threw me into the water with the intention to drown me?
Did Ted deserve to die at all?
I don’t know how to answer that. But I know I didn’t deserve what he did to me. We don’t always get what we deserve, good or bad.
Watching my sister die for me changed my life forever. The very next day, I woke up and vowed to run Stars Harbor as she did, with as little interruption as possible. With Eric’s support and quiet protection, I’m getting stronger every day. I’ve accepted that I will never trust strangers, but I’ve also realized I don’t need to in order to face the world. It’s more important to trust myself. I never would have tried if Rini hadn’t sacrificed her life for me, and now I’m slowly learning.
After a few private-invitation test runs, Stars Harbor officially reopened for the winter holidays and we’ve been booked solid. I might not be as gracious of a host as my sister, but after doing charts with her for seven years, I’m nearly as confident as she is in a reading. Early feedback has been overwhelmingly positive.
“New Year’s Eve booking went live this morning,” I tell Eric when I climb into his truck. “We incited a bidding war.”
“How many groups were in the running?”
“Six. We ended up at $5,000 a night.”
Eric whistles low and long.
“It’s all for her,” I say.
New Year’s Eve is the highly anticipated weekend of Rini’s return. Beginning with the next calendar year, we’ll run Stars Harbor together.
Eric and I walk into the rehabilitation facility together, but he hangs back in the hallway to let me greet her first.
“Are you ready?” I ask my sister. She nods.
It’s time for me to return the favor and take care of her.