Chapters (46)
- ALSO BY LISA GARDNER
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
“I don’t know. Adeline herself stated enough times that Shana wasn’t capable of such emotions. Then again . . . They knew each other, I think, understood each other in a way other people never could. Even if Adeline didn’t magically feel sisterly love, I bet she felt less alone with Shana by her side. And for Adeline, I would think that would be enough.”
Alex nodded. They remained standing there a moment longer, the backhoe now in play, summarily filling the grave with dirt. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
D.D. wanted to say something. Felt she should say something, but what? She hadn’t known Adeline that long, or obviously, that well. And yet still, she mourned the woman’s loss.
“Thank you,” she whispered at last, head tucked against Alex’s shoulder. “For what you had to teach and for what you helped me learn. And no, I still don’t approve of what you did, Adeline, but I do understand. I hope it was worth it for you. I hope you and your sister did stand side by side, and for that moment, you finally felt as if you belonged. As if you had family. And now . . . Peace, Adeline. Peace.”
D.D. straightened up, took a deep, cleansing breath. Her eyes were burning, but that was okay. Tears, like pain, were another great equalizer. And nothing the great D. D. Warren couldn’t handle.
She kissed her husband on the cheek. “Thank you for coming with me.”
Alex squeezed her hand. “Always.”
D.D. smiled. She kept her hand in his, and together, they walked away.
If you’re reading this letter, Detective Warren, then my story is done and I no longer have to be afraid of the dark.
My sister and I have finished our dance. Two lost souls, finally connecting when it mattered most.
Now, I picture us as little girls again. A four-year-old big sister, a nearly one-year-old baby. We are holding each other’s hands and we are smiling.
We are about to do what we’ve waited forty years to do.
Shana will take the first step.
And I will follow. As we step out of the shadows of our parents’ house. As we walk away from our father’s legacy of horror.
As together, two sisters finally head into the light.