Where is Anna?
Cassie looks down at her phone, hoping for a call from Anna or Joel or somebody. Well, somebody aside from the person who’s been hanging up on her, which is apparently not Francesca.
Maybe she should call the police. Someone breaking into her apartment and writing “slut” on the wall feels like something she should call the police about. Then again, like Anna pointed out, they couldn’t do anything when it happened at the bookstore. And the last thing she wants is the cops nosing around her apartment.
Maybe she should call a locksmith.
Her doorbell finally rings and she nearly faints with relief. Anna’s here—thank God. Cassie hurries over to the door and throws it open. Except it’s not Anna.
It’s Lydia.
“Lydia?” Cassie gasps. How did she even get inside without buzzing up? But then again, her neighbors let anyone inside who looks halfway respectable. Lydia looks more than respectable in her expensive trench coat with her shiny blond hair. “What are you doing here?”
Lydia looks her up and down with her ice-blue eyes. Her eyes are nearly the same color as Joel’s but have none of their warmth. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“Talk?” Cassie clears her throat. “Listen, Lydia, this isn’t a good time.”
“Nonsense.” Lydia pushes past her, then pulls a bottle of wine with the label Bonterra Vineyards from her purse. “I brought wine.”
In Lydia’s world, bringing wine is worth entrance anywhere, apparently.
Without being invited or removing her coat, Lydia strides into her kitchen and starts going through the cupboards. “Where do you keep the wine glasses?”
“I don’t have any.”
Lydia’s mouth falls open. “You don’t have any? How is such a thing possible?”
“I have cups…”
Cassie isn’t in the mood for the way Lydia sifts through her glasses and inspects each one. She finally selects a satisfactory glass and places it on the counter. She picks up the bottle and fiddles with the cork.
“Do you need a bottle opener?”
Lydia shakes her head. “No, I opened it last night.”
Sure enough, the cork comes loose easily. She tips the bottle over and fills the glass with dark red liquid. She slides it over to Cassie. “Here. You’ll like this.”
Cassie is reluctant at first, but then she realizes how much she could use a drink. This day has been nothing short of horrible.
“Thanks,” she says as she takes a sip. And she detects notes of cherry and rosemary and…
No, it just tastes like grape juice with a zing.
“Let’s have a seat,” Lydia says as she scans the room, looking for someplace to park herself. She scrunches her nose up at the sofa, but then deems the dining table acceptable. They sit opposite each other, Lydia settles gingerly into her seat as if she fears it might break.
“Aren’t you going to have wine?” Cassie asks.
“Oh, no.” Lydia rolls her eyes. “I don’t like that kind. Anna and Constantine brought it over last night. But you should drink up.”
So she does. She has another healthy sip, and she feels slightly better about the day. A nice, warm feeling comes over her. And she’s almost glad Lydia is here. Maybe Lydia isn’t her favorite person, but she doesn’t have to worry about an intruder in her house if she’s got company.
“What do you want to talk about?” Cassie finally says. “Francesca.”
It’s hard for Cassie to keep from spitting out her wine. That was the last thing she expected Lydia to say. Back when Cassie thought Lydia and Francesca were still buddy-buddy, it might have made sense. But why now? Why when Francesca is dead?
“Oh,” Cassie murmurs.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Lydia holds up what had looked like a perfectly manicured hand, although Cassie now notices several of the fingernails have been chewed on. “You don’t want to talk about your boyfriend’s ex. But I’d like you to hear me out.”
“Okay…”
“The thing is…” Lydia is staring hard at her now, which prompts Cassie to take another sip of wine. “I don’t think Joel ever told you about my relationship with Francesca. Did he?”
Cassie frowns. “No…”
“I didn’t think so.” She crosses her legs and leans forward in her chair. “You see, I was the one who introduced Joel to Francesca.”
Cassie’s mouth falls open. “I… I had no idea.”
Although it makes sense. Now she understands why Lydia was so defensive of Francesca. Why Cassie couldn’t live up.
“Francesca was my sorority sister,” Lydia says. Her eyes have become distant. “My little sister. I remember the first time I saw her walk into the Kappa house. She was taller than all the other freshman girls, and she carried herself like a woman ten years older. There was something about her that made everyone want to get to know her.”
“Oh,” Cassie mumbles because she’s not sure what else to say.
“And when Francesca moved to the city after she graduated,” Lydia continues, “and she started her restaurant, I did everything I could to help her. Because she was still my little sister, and my job was to take care of her. I mean, she was my best friend. Like I said, she was Violet’s godmother.”
“I… I’m very sorry,” Cassie manages.
“You have no idea,” Lydia snorts. “I thought introducing her to Joel would make her life complete. That’s the most important decision a woman can make, you know—who she chooses for her husband. And I couldn’t imagine a better man for her. He was with someone else back then, and I had a sit-down with him—convinced him he could do better. He listened to me.” Lydia’s eyes become moist. “I thought I was helping Francesca.”
“It wasn’t your fault that she…” Cassie can’t bring herself to complete the sentence.
“No, it wasn’t.” Lydia lifts her slightly bloodshot eyes. “It was Joel’s fault.”
Cassie feels a buzzing in her head. It’s not a drunk feeling exactly.
It’s something different. She feels almost woozy.
“Joel is responsible for Francesca’s death.” Lydia’s jaw tightens visibly. “He broke up with her and then two weeks later, she killed herself. Tell me he’s not responsible.”
Cassie tugs at her shirt collar. “Is it hot in here?”
There’s a sensation of heat all over her body. God, what’s wrong with her? What kind of wine is this?
“She was pregnant—did you know that?” Lydia says.
It’s the first thing Lydia’s said in the last sixty seconds that got through. “She was?”
Lydia nods. “Do you know what that must have been like for her to get dumped by the man she loved when she was pregnant with his child? No wonder she took her own life!” She frowns. “So when he started
dating you, I felt angry that he was moving on. I didn’t think he deserved to be happy.”
“Yes…” Cassie murmurs.
“And that’s why I started following you.”
Cassie’s eyelids feel heavy. She’s trying to focus on what Lydia is saying, but she can’t. She can’t focus on anything. She knows Lydia is trying to tell her something, but she hears each scrap of a phrase individually and is unable to piece it together.
You… Joel…
Needed to pay… Never forgive…
And that’s the last thing Cassie remembers before she loses consciousness.
