Neve shook her head. “It was human. I shouldn’t have married Scott. We all screw up, Liv. You’re no different. You make mistakes. That’s the only truth in life—we all fuck up, sugar. You’re not exempt from it.”

Those words did something to her. Neve gave her something more generous than anything she’d ever been given—her sister who at times she’d hated gave her a pardon.

Olivia sat up, swiping at her undoubtedly ravaged face. Then she opened her eyes, seeing that understanding in her sister’s eyes. “But I should have realized there was abuse. That was my field, and I never suspected, not really. She said things like she was special to Daddy or Daddy loved her more. Once she told me that Dad wanted to marry her. But I thought that was Marley being Marley. She never said Dad touched her, but I can’t discount those drawings or the fact that she always wanted to spend the night with friends, come up here every summer, stuff like that.”

Neve’s face was puffy and her eyes red rimmed and glassy. “None of us suspected. Dad never acted that way with me. You?”

Olivia shook her head. “No. He always seemed bothered by me.”

“I can’t believe he did that to her . . . to those girls. It’s fucking up my mind.” Neve pressed her hands against her eyes. “What do we do? Can he be arrested? Do we tell Mom? He’s moving his stuff in with her in a few weeks. This is an effing nightmare.”

“We’ll file a report. Talk to Mom. Drop him off a cliff.” Olivia sniffed, swiping at the tears still eking out.

A sound at the door alarmed them.

Chase stuck her head in, looking concerned. Their raging and sobbing had no doubt alarmed the rest of the house. “Are you two okay? Oh God. Did someone die?”

Olivia looked at her sister. Neve reached over and clasped Olivia’s hand as she looked up and said, “Yeah, someone did.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO

A week later

Chase kicked at the surf and tilted her face up to the sun. She had spent the past week at the Malibu beach house finishing up the Square One program. As of that morning, she was officially done with the intensive sobriety, adulting, and therapy program. Cue “The Graduation March.”

Both she and Olivia had been driven from the depths of the serene house in order for an appraiser hired by the potential buyer to do a full assessment. Olivia sat on the hard-packed sand, hair whipping behind her, as she stared out into the depths of the waves.

Chase looked down at her. “I’m sad that the house is selling, but I also realize that I pretty much had to sell it. It’s been nice living out here, though.”