Conceal

“What did you hear?” I ask.

“He was in the office on the phone. At first, I didn’t know or understand what I was hearing, but then, he said it.”

“What did he say?”

“It has to look like an accident, just like with her dad.”

If I felt sick before, it was nothing like how I felt now hearing this.

“I was frozen in the hall, afraid he would hear me. Finally, I comprehended that I wasn’t wrong, that he had killed my father . . . and that he was going to have me killed.”

She buries her head in her hands. I can hear her sniffling, but when she looks up, my heart lodges in my throat. Her eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, but I expected that, what I didn’t expect is how hollow they look.

Dead.

“I should have seen it.” She pulls at her hair.

“Seen what?” I ask.

“All the signs. There were so many of them, and I didn’t see shit. Desperate and pathetic.” She’s pushed away from me, but I’m not having it, as much as she pushes, I pull. I won’t let her go, not like this. She needs me. “After the wedding . . .” She inhales, finding her strength. “He changed. He was no longer attentive. He worked late hours. But I never knew where he worked. That was a red flag I refused to see. His behavior changed too. He was aggressive, it’s not that he hurt me, but I was afraid. He would snap. Like after the reading of the will. He screamed and shouted, but it made no sense. I mean they left me everything, why was he so upset? I never understood. Looking back, the months after we married, I walked on eggshells afraid of him, but I pushed it under a rug. I made excuses for him, but in hindsight, the signs were all there . . . I can’t imagine what would have happened if I never overheard him.”

I let her words sink in, and it makes me feel cold to the bone. I can’t imagine a world without Willow.

“How did you get away?”

“Slowly and quietly, I made my way back outside, and I waited. I waited for him to leave, and once he was gone, I crept back into the house. I packed the cash we had under the bed, I took one picture frame of my parents and a change of clothes. My hope was that he wouldn’t notice until morning. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I got in the car and drove. I drove until I thought I was safe, and then I got on a bus.” She takes a deep breath. “Eventually, I got to New York.”

“I’m so sorry.” It’s a lame thing to say, but after what she just told me, I can’t think of anything else to say.

“I know.” She tries to give me a smile, but it comes out forced.

“So now you’re in New York . . .” I lead to make her continue.

“And I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

She lifts her hands and buries her fingers in her hair, pulling the roots. “I don’t know what to do. I’m crashing at Maggie’s, but she doesn’t know. You’re—” Her chest rises and falls. “You’re the first person I’ve told. I ran from home because my husband, Riley, has friends in high places, not only is he friends with the mayor, but he donates large sums of money to the police and sheriff’s department. I don’t know who he was working with. Hell, I don’t even know why he killed my dad.”

Fresh tears fall from her face when she says that. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Over the past few years, I have dealt with many shady characters . . .” I start. “Most of the time, the root of all evil stems from money.”

Her eyes widen at this.

“You think he wanted to kill me for the money?”

I nod, and she looks crestfallen. “Was it all fake?” she whispers to herself.

I reach forward and take her hand in mine. “I’m not sure, but money is often a strong motivator. From what I’m understanding, your father had money, and that money passed to you.”

She nibbles on her lower lip.

“By killing you, as your husband, it would go to him.”

Pulling her hand away from mine, she buries her head in her now free hands. “He-he . . .” She starts to cry again, and the sound breaks me apart.

I don’t want her to feel pain.

“What am I going to do?”

“I’ll help you,” I say before I can even think about what that means. Because regardless of anything, this is what I do. This is what I’m good at, and unlike everyone I have helped before her, I need to do this, not just for her but for me. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.