I sat up straight. “Really?”

The grin ebbed while he watched me. He eased forward, lifted my chin, and brushed my cheek with the rough pad of his thumb. “Have I ever lied to you, sweet pea?” I gave my head a slow wag, and he said, “So why do you keep doubting me?” One of his brows arched. “Didn’t I say I’ll always care?”

I lowered my eyes to escape his. Every time I looked at him, I got butterflies.

“Tell me.”

Getting the words out took some effort. “It was Mother,” I whispered, bottom lip quivering.

“Go on.”

My eyes started welling. “Sh-she said….” Tears streamed down my face as the words stumbled out of me. “I was running, and I broke her favorite vase yesterday—by accident. The flowers. The purple ones she likes. They fell and broke too. That made her mad. Then she…she said she h-hated me and—and she wished I was never b-born. And that it was my fault she had to get breast lift surgery.” I shouldered a tear. “If I ever break something of yours, you won’t hate me, will you?”

He searched my eyes as incredulity darkened his. “This why you been asking all these—” He muttered a curse and gathered me into his arms. I forced myself not to cry out, not to flinch because of the pain reverberating around my bruised ribs. Out of nowhere he asked, “Your mama ever hit you?”

“No,” I lied as a breeze ruffled my hair.

“That the truth? ’Cause if she did—”

“She didn’t, okay?”

A minute passed before he responded. His voice was quiet. Reflective. “Daddy used extension cords. Bev’s jump rope. His fist. Beat me with some jumper cables one time, too.” He wiped my tears with care. “It’s ninety degrees out here. Why the long sleeves?”

“Because.” I served up another lie. “I’ve got … um, poison ivy.”

He paused in ominous silence. When he finally spoke, there was an intensity in his voice I’d never heard before. “Listen, you’re one of the best things that ever happened to this fucked up world. Remember that.” Hugging me close, he dropped a peck atop my head. “And there’s nothin’ you could do that would make me hate you.”

“You say that now, but….”

“What?”

“Mother. She says she loves me all the time.”

“Shadow?” He jiggled my hand. “I’ll never lie to you.”

My hopeful gaze clung to his. “Promise to goodness?”

“Promise to goodness.” He drew an X over his heart. “Believe me now?”

I recalled something he’d said he’d done with Cole, his baby brother. “Yes, but can we…spit on it?”

He considered me for a moment. “You know somethin’? You’re right,” he said with mock seriousness. “A promise isn’t truly bona fide ‘til it’s sealed with spit.”

I beamed a smile, but caution weakened it. “About the spitting. You…you mustn’t tell Mother. All right?”

He managed to look insulted. “What kind of friend would I be if I did that?”

“Not a very good one.”

“You got that right.” He bared his callused palm, spat, then winked at me to do the same. My efforts barely produced a dollop, but it was enough to close the deal. “No lies?”

“No lies,” I repeated once his big hand swallowed mine.

SHANNON

____________________________

I pulled into the carriage house at Briar and spoke into the handless cell phone receiver. “Didn’t you get the message I left with Kate?”

“Uh-no, sorry,” Darien mumbled. It was the same distracted tone I’d grown accustomed to. One I’d heard too many times before. His footsteps echoed in the background. “I just got out of court. We’re meeting with the prosecutor in a few minutes. What’s going on?”

In other words, I’m busy. Again.

“Everything is going on,” I said.

My throat was still raw from yelling. Not that Darien noticed the rasp in my voice. An hour had passed since Trace had stormed out of my office, and my fried nerves had yet to recover. Why hadn’t I taken him at his word about Mother?

He’d never lied to me.

“That’s right,” Darien said. “The luncheon is tomorrow.”

“What? Oh, yeah.” I tried to remember why I’d called him, but couldn’t. “Ah, I guess I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed. Between that and the wedding planning—”

“Oops, I’ve got another incoming. I’ll only be a second.” The phone clicked. “Darien Montgomery.”

“It’s still me.” My voice bordered on snippy. Not that he noticed that either. “Try again.”

“Sorry. New phone. Hold on.”

I yanked my keys from the ignition. Of course the phone was new. He probably burned the other one out from overuse! With Trace still on my mind, I’d needed to reconnect with Darien, but this long distance garbage was driving me crazy.

“Okay, I’m back,” he said. “Are you all right?”

Not if feeling confused, frustrated, and angry counted. I couldn’t tell him the truth. If I did, he’d know I’d broken my promise. “I just miss you.”

“Me too. So what time do the festivities begin tomorrow?”

“Twelve noon.”

“Did Granny Mae do the guest list again?”

I grabbed my things and wrenched the car door open. “No, she swore off party planning after the last one. If you’ll recall, Auntie accused her of turning the place into a trailer park who’s who.”

He laughed the same polite laugh he gave clients…and strangers. “Honey, we’re trying to wrap things up here, so….”

“Wait.” I finally remembered why I called. “Have you heard anything more about the letter?”

“I’ll be right there,” he told someone. Then to me, he said, “Nothing else has shaken loose, but I’m still on it. Now, I’ve really got to go. I’ll call you tonight at the usual time, okay? I love you, babe.”

TRACE

____________________________

The next day, I sat slumped in the passenger seat of Bev’s brand-new truck as she drove into Grace Brethren Memorial Park, New Dyer’s fanciest cemetery. She’d picked me up after work so we could visit our mother together, but considering my black mood, I should’ve gone home. Between Amber ignoring my messages, this nonsense with Shannon, the constant crank calls, and what Bev had told me last night, I was about to lose my shit. Somebody had spray painted SATAN’S SISTER on the windows of her nail salon.

I’d only gotten four hours of sleep, one of which I’d spent trapped in Daddy’s nightmare. Seconds after I woke, my thoughts flew straight to Shannon. The fear and mistrust I’d seen in her eyes haunted me even now. I didn’t think I’d ever care what she thought, but I did. She was terrified of me. Hell, if I’d told her the truth about Nyle, she probably would’ve run off screaming.

As Bev taxied up the two-lane road, intermittent winks of sunlight flashed above a thick line of skeletal trees. This was where all the well-to-dos went when they kicked the bucket. Mama had cleaned their houses, so if she couldn’t live like them, she figured her final resting place would be as swanky as theirs. I was just glad she’d gotten the last laugh.

“We've gone as far as we can go,” Bev said, tugging me back. She cut the engine and pulled some Marlboros from the visor. Staring straight ahead, she tapped the crumpled pack until a cigarette inched out. She lit it and exhaled. “The north access road is closed. We gotta hike the rest of the way.” She pointed to a path on a hill that faded into a copse of snow-speckled evergreens. “Mama’s up there,” she said in monotone.

Clearly neither of us was in the mood for this visit. Having avoided the cemetery since Mama and Daddy’s funeral, Bev claimed grief kept her away, but I knew better. Mother and daughter had never been close.

From Bev’s cradle to Mama’s grave, they’d fought 365 days a year.