Again, the smug look touched his eyes and mouth. His lips twitched in a smile. Maybe he was remembering his old cruelties. Maybe it gave him pleasure to know that she had figured him out.

“You were clumsy, Mara. You always have been.”

Lily's muscles rippled. She thought of herself on the tennis court, getting to the hard shots, putting the ball away. She thought of herself carrying Rose as a baby, a toddler, a small child—Rose in one arm, groceries or bags of yarn or rock salt for the icy walkway in Cape Hawk balanced in the other. She had never fallen, not once, in the years since she'd left him.

“It's over, Edward. I see you now.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“It means that I get who you are. You can't hurt me the way you used to, because I understand the kind of person you are.”

He took a step forward. They were very close, touching toe to toe. Lily felt his breath on her forehead. He was just a few inches taller than she was, but he seemed as aggressive as a giant. His skin gave off violence.

“I'm getting to you right now,” he said, his teeth gritted, his face hot red.

“Leave,” she said.

“You. Can't. Get. Away. With. What. You. Did,” he said staccato, with his fists clenched. “You humiliated me.”

“Edward, I was trying to save my own life,” she said. “Do you remember the mountain? Think of that the next time you wonder why I ran away.”

Their eyes met, and now Lily couldn't look away. Nine and a half years ago, she had seen him for exactly who he really was, and he knew it. Bringing it up now felt powerful, vindicating. But seeing the blood in his face, dark red and boiling, made her stomach drop.

“You didn't call the police that day,” he said, eyes glinting, because he knew that her mistake in not calling for help had given him the upper hand.

“You were my husband,” she said. “I tried to tell myself I was wrong.”

He stared, fists clenched.

“I was pregnant. I couldn't bear to face what I was actually married to.”

“‘What'? You say that as if I'm a thing,” he said. “You treat me as if I'm a nothing, and you always have. That's the problem, Mara. You don't like men. You don't respect us. I feel sorry for what's-his-name. The one-armed wonder.”

She started to back away. Edward was so ugly, in his words and heart. She just wanted to go inside, gather her family to her, remind herself of the light and goodness in her life.

“You should have told the police that day,” he said. “You realize that, don't you?”

She didn't answer.

“It would have been your best chance.” He smiled. “Found any earrings lately?”