The only DNA linked to Clare belonged to David. Tests proved he had fathered her unborn child. When I’d learned that detail, it had stung deeply. I thought about all the nights we’d talked about making a baby of our own one day. Bastard.

David had hired a top-notch attorney, who was already arguing that fathering a child was not a criminal offense. His case would go to trial in the new year.

“How are you holding up?” Jo-Jo asked.

“Well enough,” I said. That wasn’t true. There’d been some terrible, lonely nights filled with tears and anger. But in the end, I pulled myself together. Putting one foot in front of the other wasn’t always easy, but it was the only way to get out of hell.

The scent of new construction hung in the air as I followed her down a hallway painted a light gray. There were no pictures on the walls, and the rooms to my left and right were empty. The hallway ended in a bright kitchen with a massive island covered in white marble. The only splash of color was a wooden bowl of apples by the farmhouse sink. There were two coffee cups from a local shop.

“Is this your new home?” I asked.

“We’re considering it. I convinced the Realtor to let me visit alone.”

“Aren’t you the clever one.”

Jo-Jo set one of the cups in front of me. I pried off the top and confirmed there was no cream. Had she asked Jack what I liked? The coffee smelled good, and the cup warmed my fingers, but I hesitated to drink. To this day, I hated to accept a drink I hadn’t poured myself.

A frown furrowed Jo-Jo’s forehead. “Have you spoken to David?”

I set the cup down carefully. “I have not. There’s nothing for us to talk about.”

“I thought you’d want to see him and get some kind of closure. Marisa talked to him.”

“Closure is for the weak. And my sister was helping the police.” I was a little amazed how well Marisa had handled herself.

“After all these years, she solved Clare’s murder.”

“With a little help from you.”

“I just gave her Clare’s camera.”

“After all these years, why give it to her now?” I asked.

“It seemed the right thing to do.” She raised her chin, as if she’d stepped up onto the moral high ground.

“It wasn’t the right thing to do five, ten, or thirteen years ago?” I pressed. I could smell evasion.

“I was young. Scared. And I didn’t want to drag my parents back into the limelight.”

“Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect,” I said. “I mean, with David in town.”