“No, but there has to be another explanation. It wasn’t him. It’s not him.”

The two of them exchange a look that’s easy enough to read. “Again, we’re very sorry,” Jones murmurs. “And as my partner said, we will call you as soon as we find anything about the first Mrs. Alistair. Please, take care of yourselves. Take care of each other. And let us know if you can think of anything else that might be worthwhile in the investigation.”

I’m the one who has to show them to the door because Colt is in no condition. Pacing, shaking his head, snarling.

When we’re alone, I turn to him. “Colt, there’s really nobody else it could have been, is there? I’m sorry, I hate to believe it, too.”

“You don’t know. All these fucking years. And this is how it ends? Having to do what he wanted all this time because otherwise, he would have let our mother die. Do you think he wouldn’t have? Do you think that was an idle threat?”

“I don’t think it was an idle threat.”

“So what? He dies in a fucking explosion along with that sick bastard? How does that make sense? How is that fair?” He leans against the nearest wall and slides down until he’s on the floor, folding his arms over his knees and touching his forehead to them. I feel so helpless—useless. I don’t know the right thing to say or if there is any right thing at a time like this.

All I can do is sit down with him. Be close to him and let him know he isn’t alone.

Because, after all, we have to take care of each other. We’re all we have.

CHAPTER 41

I lower my head and look down at the two graves covered in flowers, notes, and even a few stuffed animals. The dirt around it is freshly turned, the headstone meticulously carved and beautifully inscribed.

Amanda L. Peters.

Beloved mother.

I refused to have them put Alistair on her gravestone. The marriage was annulled anyway since James was still legally married to someone else. My gaze moves to the grave next to hers.

Nixon C. Alistair

A life taken too soon.

His grave holds even more flowers than my mother’s. Half of our high school is here to say goodbye to one of their favorite alumni. We thought about holding two separate funerals but decided we didn’t want to go through all of this twice.

As the pastor reads a passage from the Bible that vaguely fits my mother’s life as a mother, I glance up into the sniffling crowd. A lot of people who came I only know from the wedding, but most of the attendees I don’t know at all. Piper is the only person here who actually came for me, to support me in any way she could.