I don’t even have time to absorb that ending before I hear Jeremy’s Jeep pulling into the garage. I stack the pages together into a pile and then glance at the monitor. Verity still hasn’t moved.
He suspected her?
I squeeze my neck, trying to ease all the tension that last chapter infused into my muscles. How could he still take care of her? Bathe her and change her for the rest of his life? Feel like he owes her the promise of his vows?
If he truly thought she killed Harper, how could he stand to be in the same house as her?
I hear the garage door open, so I walk to the office door and step out into the hallway. Jeremy is holding Crew in his arms at the foot of the stairs. “Six stitches,” he whispers. “And a lot of pain meds. He’s out cold for
the night.” He walks Crew upstairs to put him to bed. I don’t hear him check on Verity before he begins to make his way back down again.
“Want some coffee?” I ask him. “Please.”
He follows me into the kitchen, where he hugs me from behind, sighing into my hair as I start a pot of coffee. I lean my head against his, full of so many questions. But I say nothing because I don’t even know where to start.
I spin around while the coffee brews and wrap my arms around him. We hold each other in the kitchen for several minutes. Until he releases his hold on me and says, “I need to shower. I have dried blood all over me.”
I notice it then. The drops on his arms, the smears on his shirt. It’s starting to be our thing, being covered in blood. I’m glad I’m not superstitious.
“I’ll be in the office.”
We kiss, and then he runs upstairs. I wait for the coffee to finish brewing so I can make myself a cup. I’m still not sure how to approach him with all my questions, but after reading that last chapter, I have so many. I think it might be a long night.
I hear his shower start when I finish pouring myself a cup of coffee. I carry it back to the office with me and then spill it all over the floor. The cup shatters. The hot liquid splashes my legs and begins to seep under my toes, but I can’t move.
I am frozen in place as I stare at the monitor. Verity is on the floor. On her hands and knees.
I lunge for my phone at the same time I scream Jeremy’s name. “Jeremy!”
Verity’s head tilts to the side, as if she heard my scream from upstairs. Before I can open my camera app with unsteady fingers, she crawls back into her bed. Gets back into position. Stills herself.
“Jeremy!” I yell again, dropping my phone. I run to the kitchen and grab a knife. I run up the stairs, straight to Verity’s room. I unlock her door and swing it open.
“Get up!” I yell.
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t even flinch.
I rip the covers off her. “Get up, Verity. I saw you.” I’m full of rage as I lower the side of her hospital bed. “You aren’t getting away with this.”
I want Jeremy to see her for who she really is before she has an opportunity to hurt him. To hurt Crew. I grab her by the ankles and pull on her legs. I have her halfway out of the bed when I feel someone rip me from her. I’m swung around, carried to the door. He plants my feet on the floor of the hallway.
“What the hell are you doing, Lowen?” Jeremy’s face and his voice are so full of anger.
I step forward, pressing my hands against his chest. He pulls the knife away from me and grips my shoulders. “Stop.”
“She’s faking it. I saw her, I swear, she’s faking it.”
He steps back into her room and slams the door in my face. I open the door, and he’s lifting Verity’s legs back onto the bed. When he sees me entering the room again, he tosses the covers over Verity and shoves me out into the hallway. He turns and locks her door, then grabs me by the wrist and pulls me behind him.
“Jeremy, no.” I’m grabbing at his wrist that’s locked tightly around mine. “Don’t leave Crew up here with her.” My voice is pleading, but he can’t hear the worry. He can only see what he thinks he knows, what he walked into. When we reach the stairs, I back up, shaking my head, refusing to descend them. He needs to take Crew downstairs. He grabs me by the waist and lifts me over his shoulder and carries me down the stairs, straight to my room. He sets me down onto the bed, gently, even in the midst of his anger.
He walks to my closet. Grabs my suitcase. My things. “I want you to leave.”
I lift up onto my knees and move to the foot of the bed, where he’s shoving all my things into the suitcase. “You have to believe me.”
He doesn’t.
“Goddammit, Jeremy!” I point toward the upstairs. “She’s crazy! She’s been lying to you since the day you met her!”
I’ve never seen so much distrust and hatred pouring out of a human. The way he’s looking at me has me so terrified, I scoot away from him.
“She’s not faking it, Lowen.” He tosses his hand in the air, toward the direction of the stairs. “That woman is helpless. Practically brain-dead. You’ve been seeing things since you got here.” He shoves more clothes into my suitcase, shaking his head. “It’s impossible,” he mutters.
“It isn’t. And you know it isn’t. She killed Harper and you know it. You suspected it.” I climb off the bed and rush to the door. “I can prove it.”
He follows after me as I run to Verity’s office. I grab the manuscript, every page of it, and I turn around just as he reaches me and I shove it against his chest. “Read it.”
He catches the pages. Looks down at them. Looks back up at me. “Where did you find this?”
“It’s hers. It’s all there. From the day you met her up until her car wreck. Read it. At least read the last two chapters, I don’t care. Just, please, read it.” I’m exhausted, and I have nothing else in me but pleas. So I beg him. Quietly. “Please, Jeremy. For your girls.”
He’s still looking at me like he doesn’t trust a single word coming out of my mouth. He doesn’t have to. If he would just read those pages—see what his wife was truly thinking in the moments she was with him—he’ll know I’m not the one he needs to worry about.
I can feel the fear welling up in me. The fear of losing him. He thinks I’m crazy—that I was trying to hurt his wife. He wants me to leave his home. He wants me to walk out of here and he never wants to see me again.
My eyes sting as the tears begin to fall down my cheeks.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please. You deserve to know the truth.”
