I was afraid now more than ever that Jack would land back in jail, or one of his business associates would turn on him. No matter how many times I said the past did not matter, it did. “I am. Really.”

She was silent for a moment, looking at me like Clare used to. I hear your words, but I see behind them. Marisa had known Jack as long as I had, and if she was telling the truth, she’d been too high to really offer consent when they had sex. But that was the old Jack. Not the man I’d married.

I took a sip. “What did you want to talk about? I can’t believe you’re pumped about Brit’s wedding.”

“Richards told me Clare was pregnant.”

I drew in a breath, surprised she’d not known this. “Yes.”

Marisa leaned in. “So, you did know?”

“I found out the night she died.”

“You never told me.”

“You were mourning Clare’s death. I didn’t see the reason to grieve over her baby.”

Marisa stabbed her fingers through her hair. “How far along was she?”

“She was two weeks late.”

“She would have gotten pregnant around the time of the city art show.”

“That’s right.”

“I canceled on her at the last minute. Brit wasn’t in a rush to get home, and she wanted to take me shopping.”

Clare had been annoyed and hurt when we’d spoken about Marisa’s last-minute change of plans. “I remember.”

“Did she meet anyone at the show?” Marisa asked.

“I don’t know. She and I weren’t as close around that time. You both had grown distant.”

“It didn’t have anything to do with you,” Marisa said. “We were feeling good for the first time in a long time and were just thrilled to be getting out. We didn’t mean to leave you behind.”

“We were all quite the trio.”

“Yes, we were,” Marisa said. “I don’t know how we’d have gotten through the sickest days without you.”

We’d been the Three Musketeers. All for one. My hand slid into my bag, and my fingers ran over the camera’s smooth finish. Telling Marisa about the camera might blow back on me, but I’d be finished with all the secrets. And I had Jack now. He would protect me.

Marisa watched as I removed the small pink camera from my purse. Her eyes softened as recognition flared. “That was Clare’s. I looked everywhere for it.”

“That last time I saw her, she was wearing that blue coat. She forgot to take it. I didn’t bother to return it because I thought I’d see her again. And when I heard she was dead, I wore it to be close to her. The camera was in the pocket.”

“You never told Richards about it,” Marisa said.

“I didn’t.”