Contents ( 85)
- Contents
- Part I
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Part II
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Part III
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- One
- Two
- Reading Group Guide
- A Conversation with the Author
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
I do. But the rage and fear remain. “Max, we’re leaving now. Right now. Get back in the car.”
Max looks directly at me and says only one more thing. The words chill me more than the air spilling from the outside.
“It was always just supposed to be the two of us.”
“Go back to the car.”
This time, he listens, circling a path behind the Jeep. I turn my head just long enough to see him climb into the passenger seat of the Suburban before whipping back around to Pearson.
Time slows. Before saying anything, I perform a two-second meditation. One deep breath. A single mantra, spoken once inside my head.
Protect your child.
Seventy-One
When I speak, I’m surprised how suddenly calm I am. Maybe this is what it’s like on the cusp of slipping into shock.
“You don’t have jurisdiction here,” I say. “You aren’t even on active duty. You can’t do anything.”
“You know it doesn’t work that way. You can’t just run, Rose.”
“That’s my decision. Mine and Max’s. No one else’s.”
He puts his hand on my arm but doesn’t grab. It’s light, as if to comfort, but I’m also aware he’s larger and stronger than me. If he tries to restrain me, I’ll fight like hell. Fight with everything I have.
“Is it true?” he asks.
My instinct is to scream no as loud as I can, but I don’t. And that pause, my little hesitation, is probably all Pearson needs to know with certainty that I didn’t kill Riley.
“I…I can’t even…” I turn my head to the Suburban. To where my son waits for me. “I just need to go.”
“Go where?”
“Away from here,” I say.
“You can’t hide forever,” he says. “And Max is a minor. A case could be made about why he did it. Abuse. Self-defense. Protecting you.”
I look back to Pearson. “He’ll never confess to anything. As long as I live, I’m protecting him. He’s my only family. I’m the only one he has.”
Pearson nods, eyes heavy.
“Are you going to try to stop me from leaving this car?” I ask.
“No, Rose. I’m not.”
“Are you going to call Bury PD as soon as I drive away?”
He thinks on this a moment, face full of sorrow.
“There’s no way I can stop you from running?” he asks.
“Not a chance in hell.”
“In that case, I want to know the truth.”
“I already told you; I didn’t kill my husband.”
He lifts his hand from my arm, and in a strange way, I wish he hadn’t. His touch grounded me.
“Not about that. About Caleb.” Pearson nods to the house down the driveway. “The reason we’re here. We both showed up at the same house on the same snowy day. If you’re running for good, I want to know what happened. You owe me that.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I say.
“Then you owe it to yourself.”
He’s right. How many times in twenty-two years have I wanted this? This chance to tell someone about what happened. To confess my sins. To confess all our sins. It’s the promise I made to myself just this morning.