The doors chime open to the lobby, and she speaks again.
“How long do you plan to stay?”
“I’ll stay long enough to make sure he’s settled. Until Maya makes it in. Maya has one more day on this shift then she’s off for four and flying in. Then I’ll meet you in DC.” I take a breath. “I’ll be there before Stella’s play. Even if I’m walking in at the last minute.”
Her lips part. A soft, surprised inhale. “Stella will love that.”
I nod once. “Will you?”
Alicia doesn’t answer right away. She just steps closer, laying her palm against my chest—over my heart—like she’s memorizing the beat.
“I will,” she says finally. “Let’s get out of here so you can get some sleep. Your father needs you sharp tomorrow.”
“And you too,” I return. “You must be exhausted.”
It’s not until later—much later—when we’re curled together in Dad’s guest bed, her back pressed against my chest, my arm wrapped around her waist, that the adrenaline finally drains away. The ghost of fluorescent light fades from behind my eyelids. The antiseptic smell is replaced by her shampoo, something floral and clean.
The echo of her words—this is real—settles into my bones with a weight that feels like purpose.
Like home.
Dad was right.
I’d be an idiot to let her go.
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Alicia
We dropped Stella at the school two hours ago—the drama instructor does the kids’ hair and makeup at the auditorium. In past years, I volunteered to help, but this year the decision was easy—being charged with murder isn’t something you want to walk into a school volunteer situation carrying. The risk of another parent saying something in front of Stella, or worse, in front of her friends, isn’t one I’m willing to take. And with Gabriel shadowing me this week, raising eyebrows felt like a secondary concern I didn’t need either. This year, I’m simply an attending parent.
My phone buzzes against the marble countertop.
* * *
Noah: Wish I could be there. Take photos.
Me: You’re where you need to be. I’ll buy the school’s video.
* * *
As I finish tapping out my message to Noah, Gabriel steps into the kitchen, dressed in tan trousers and a sport coat over a black crewneck. He’s been staying in the guest room since I returned from New Jersey. His presence feels different than Noah’s, more formal, less woven into the fabric of our days. But tonight, as I prepare to leave for the play, I’m grateful not to be alone.
While Noah is highly suspicious of Richard and Jessica, I struggle to believe it. Richard and I have had our differences, but he’d never hurt me, and by extension, Stella. I can almost imagine him asking Jessica to run a background check, and her looping in a cousin for help, but anything beyond that feels like too much of a stretch. It’s easier to believe in overprotectiveness than malice.
“I’ve got my car out front. I can drive,” Gabriel says.
“No, I should drive.”
I slip my phone into my handbag. Gabriel is watching me, composed as ever. He could step into any private school function and blend seamlessly.
“Wait,” I say slowly. “Are you planning on attending with me?”
“If it’s a problem, you could introduce me as your brother. Or a family friend.”
“I just don’t think it’s?—”