Naomi had buried that image of her mother’s sprawled body as much as possible, along with the months surrounding it. Her hair and clothes had been wet with morning dew. Her neck bent at that horrible, unnatural angle. Naomi had been young, but she’d still heard the whispers about the cocktail of drugs in her mother’s system. Enough to kill her even if she hadn’t fallen.

Naomi and Valerie had only ever had that one, blazing fight, just before Naomi moved to Scotland. She had thought Valerie was overreacting when she was so furious at Naomi’s plan. How she hadn’t understood that Naomi needed to remake herself somewhere where the reach of both Valerie and Cole was weaker.

Naomi had left Valerie, just like Catherine had threatened to do. Unintentionally poked hard at a tender spot.

“My mother’s fall wasn’t an accident,” Naomi said slowly, the weapon forgotten at her side.

Valerie’s bravado fell. She was stripped bare, guilt that she’d never shown even while she risked the fate of Earth rising to the surface. Valerie’s head tilted forward.

“God,” Naomi whispered. “Did you start the fire, too?”

She should have known by now—Valerie would do anything to get what she wanted. Catherine and Valerie had made Hawthorne from nothing.

Valerie gave a sharp shake of her head. “That was a wildfire. If that’d never happened, we’d all be on a different path.”

“But my mother didn’t fall,” Naomi repeated.

“She wanted to break up the company,” Valerie said, almost pleading with Naomi to understand. “Hawthorne wasn’t doing well—all risk, no growth. I couldn’t afford to start over. And she’d be taking you with her.”

Naomi stopped breathing.

“Evan hated me by that point, but you? You hung on to me, clung like glue. If I gave you a problem, you trotted off to solve it. Came back so proud when you’d cracked it. You loved me. At that point in my life, you were the only one who did.”

Naomi’s breath hitched as it restarted. Her vision wobbled. She took a step back, then another, until she was pressed against the wall of the rec room.

“When you left for Scotland, I thought I’d lost you. Catherine’s promise kept years later. Then you came back. It was us against the world again. But I overestimated you. You don’t have what it takes for truly radical change.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” Naomi said. Even after everything, the sting of disappointing Valerie bit deep. She edged closer to the door. “I’m not a toy soldier to wind up and march in whatever direction you choose. I never was. Destroying what’s in your way doesn’t leave you anything.” She gestured at the constraints. “You’ll never get what you want.”