The grief on her face cut through me and I wanted to say I did remember her, snatches of memories, good memories. I clamped my mouth shut and struggled to keep my face as expressionless as possible.
She leaned toward me a little more. "We didn't murder those young couples, Olivia. If you remember anything about us, you know we didn't."
I glanced at Gabriel. I didn't mean to. His face gave nothing away, but I knew what he was thinking. My parents had been convicted by a jury of their peers. They'd lost their first appeal and several subsequent attempts. Was I desperate enough--foolish enough--to entertain even the slightest doubt of their guilt?
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't come here to..."
I couldn't finish that. What would I say? I came here because I already know you're a monster and I needed to see you so I could believe that in my heart, too. Except now ...
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
I looked at her and the temperature in the tiny room seemed to jump twenty degrees. A bead of sweat trickled down my cheek and I had to struggle for breath.
I got to my feet. "I need ... I have to step outside."
Pamela leapt up. "No, please, E--Olivia. I didn't mean--"
"I'll be back."
Chapter Twenty-three
Gabriel held open the door and I hurried out over Pamela's protests. Once I heard that door close behind me, I stopped, facing the corridor wall, breathing in and out.
I was smarter than this. I knew she was guilty. I wanted to come here and feel that, and instead the doubt had crept from my heart to my head.
"Oh God."
My hands flew up. I had a mental flash of Pamela's hands going to her mouth and yanked mine away.
I'd lived with her for the first few years of my life. When I'd seen her, there'd been no doubt how I'd once felt about Pamela Larsen. How much of her had I absorbed? How much did I still unknowingly emulate?
"Stop. Just stop," I muttered, then wheeled and found Gabriel right behind me.
"Oh," I said.
He didn't speak. Just stood there, as if patiently waiting for me to finish my breakdown.
After a moment of silence, he said, "Would you like to...?" and waved to a chair down the hall.
"No, I'm okay."
"Take a moment then."
"Really, I'm fine. She's just not..."
"What you expected."
"Not what I wanted."
"Ah." Another nod.
We stood there for a minute, then I said, "She thinks you ruined her appeal chances on purpose, doesn't she?"
"Yes."
"Did you?"
"That wouldn't be in my best interests."