“I figured she’d be okay. And my father … by then, he was a wreck. If he couldn’t accept Tommy had ever assaulted other women, how could he believe what Tommy had done to me? It seemed better to just keep my mouth shut. Except … the longer you go without speaking, the harder it becomes. I wanted to see Tessa, but I didn’t know what to say. I wanted my parents to know what happened, but I didn’t know how to tell them.

“I stopped speaking. Literally. For an entire year. And my parents never even noticed. They were too busy with their own nervous breakdowns to bother with mine. Then Tessa disappeared—I heard her father had kicked her out. She never told me. Never stopped by to say goodbye. Maybe she couldn’t speak either. I never knew. Until you showed up yesterday morning, I didn’t know she’d become a cop, I didn’t know she’d gotten married, and I didn’t know she had a little girl named Sophie. That’s my middle name, you know. She named her daughter for me. After everything I did to her, she still named her daughter for me.…”

“The daughter who’s now dead,” D.D. said bluntly.

“You’re wrong!” Juliana shook her head.

“You’re wrong, Juliana: We saw the body. Or at least the pieces after she blew it up.”

Juliana paled, then shook her head again. “You’re wrong,” the young woman insisted stubbornly.

“Once again, from the woman whose family could give lessons in denial …”

“You don’t know Tessa.”

“For the past ten years, neither have you.”

“She’s clever. Self-sufficient. But she wouldn’t harm a child, not after what happened to her brother.”

Bobby and D.D. exchanged glances. “Brother?” D.D. said.

“Stillborn baby. That’s what tore her family apart, years before I knew her. Her mother fell into a deep depression, probably should’ve been institutionalized, except what did people know back then? Her mom lived in the bedroom. Never came out, certainly never cared for Tessa. Her father did the best he could, but he was not exactly nurturing. But Tessa loved them. She tried to take care of them, in her own way. And she loved her baby brother, too. One day, we had a funeral for him, just she and I. And she cried, she truly cried, because that’s the one thing in her house you were never allowed to do.”

D.D. stared at Juliana. “You know, you could’ve told me this sooner.”

“Well, you could’ve figured it out sooner. Cops. Must the victims do all the work for you?”

D.D. bristled. Bobby promptly placed a settling hand on her arm.

“Where did you take her?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Juliana said primly.

“You picked Tessa up. You already admitted that.”