Saturday, 3:11 p.m.
As the house burned, the air grew smokier. Bits of ash landed on Olivia’s skin. When she brushed them away, they dissolved like dirty snowflakes.
Richard was in front of their house with a garden hose, battling the fire Meredith had started. It looked like he might even be able to save the house, or at least part of it. The fire had begun in the back of the house, so the kitchen might survive. Adam’s room, though, would be a total loss. Dominic’s too.
Screw the house.
Adam had a daughter.
Inside Olivia, grief raged stronger than any fire. Her fingers and feet tingled with it. She wondered if, after burning for so many years, it might finally consume her. She realized she didn’t care whether she survived any more than she cared about the damn house.
All she cared about was making sure Thea was safe and finally doing the right thing. She could still save Ellie. Then she’d make the Clarkes pay. Not with cash. The blackmail had never been about the $250,000. It had been about forcing the truth. Now, the Clarkes owed a far greater debt.
Olivia cast a sideways glance at Dominic’s SUV.
She nudged Thea toward the vehicle. “Take Goose and wait there,” she said. When her daughter had gone, she turned back to Richard.
“It’s not worth saving,” she called to him. She wasn’t sure whether she meant the house or their marriage. “Adam won’t be coming home.”
Richard dropped the garden hose and stood stone-still, watching her.
Olivia moved closer so she wouldn’t have to shout. “Apparently, he’s been buried on Meredith’s property for sixteen years.” Inappropriate laughter threatened to bubble up, but she choked it down.
Shock flashed across Richard’s face, despair too, but before he could speak, Olivia said, “I know you’ve had affairs. For the past couple of days, I’ve been sure you were cheating again.”
“What happened to him?” Richard’s voice broke, and Olivia felt an unexpected pang of regret. She quickly quashed it.
“Sounds like Grace killed him.” She instantly caught the tentative phrasing and squared her shoulders. “She definitely killed him.” And then she’d taken the last piece of him with her when she left.
He shook his head. “I’ve never cheated on you.” He sounded so damn sincere that if she hadn’t known better, she might’ve believed him. “Everything I’ve done—even the horrible things I can’t take back—I’ve done to protect you.”
She squared her shoulders again, making it clear she was done—with his lies, with him. “I don’t believe you.” Though she spoke softly, the sharp edge of her words sliced through the wind.
Richard slouched under the weight of his emotions, and had it been earlier in their marriage, she would’ve gone to him. Held him. Taken on some of his grief. But she had no room in her for forgiveness.
His next words were nearly a sigh, forlorn but resigned. “I’m not your father. I’ve never cheated. For me, you’ve always been enough.”
There was a kindness in his voice, but to her it felt like judgment. Even now, he still believed her too weak to handle the truth. Because she couldn’t be wrong about his cheating. He would never be able to convince her of that.
Richard looked around, probably for their daughter.
“She’s fine,” Olivia said. “She can’t hear.”
For several seconds, the only movement came from the shivering branches and thrashing leaves. Then he said, “I watched the backups. The ones you deleted.”
The wind moaned, a sound that seemed to rise from Olivia’s own throat.
It was her turn for shock. “You knew, but you didn’t save her?”
“You didn’t either, Liv.” That fake kindness was back. How dare he.
“I didn’t know who she was then.”
“That shouldn’t have made a difference.”
An unexpected calmness settled within her, a pause in a gathering storm. He was right. About that, anyway. “I’ll meet you and Thea at the creek. Don’t forget Goose.”
Richard kicked the hose aside and turned off the water. “Liv, we need to—”
But Olivia shut him out. There was no we anymore, and she was done listening to what he wanted from her. She trusted him to take care of Thea—he’d always been a good father, at least. Because Olivia was the only one who could still save Ellie.
She started running and didn’t look back, even when Richard called for her to stop, to listen. Even when he shouted, “She’s gone.”
But maybe that wasn’t what he’d shouted after her at all. The howl of the wind and the distance between them swallowed whatever apology he’d intended to make.
For a moment, Olivia wondered whether, if she’d stolen one last glance at Richard, he would have appeared surprised that, finally, she’d left. She’d always stayed before, even when he’d had his affairs. Even when he’d looked on her with pity because she grieved too slowly. Why wouldn’t Richard believe she’d stay and listen to him now?
Olivia ran toward the forest, toward the spot where Dominic had nearly died. Toward the abandoned cabin where it might already be too late for her granddaughter.