The Beautiful Daughters (35 page)

“No,” she argued, “I'm not . . .”

“Ask Will or Jackson or the emergency medics that lifted us all out of that godforsaken valley,” Harper pressed, because she had to make Adri understand, and it was probably one of the most important things she would ever communicate. “You were in the water with David. You held him for hours. And when the helicopter finally came, they had to pry David Galloway out of your bloodstained hands.”

It was a shower, nothing but a run-of-the-mill, everyday shower, but as Harper watched the foamy water slip down the drain, she couldn't help but wonder if she was washing away more than just the dirt on her skin.

Surreal, Harper decided. The events of the last day were beyond her comprehension. There were so many ifs. If Sawyer was caught. If Will got better. If Adri was right. What if David had stepped over the edge, had meant to do exactly the thing that she blamed herself for? That had tormented her for so long? What if everything she'd believed to be true was a lie? What then?

Harper's world had been upended, shaken and thrown like dice that would land wherever fate or chance or circumstance dictated. And she was mid-spin, twirling over possibilities so quickly she hardly had time to consider what each outcome would mean.

But Harper wasn't the only one dealing with the fallout.
Somewhere else in the mansion, Adri was taking her own purifying shower. Confronting her own demons. As Harper toweled off and wriggled into a fresh outfit from her small Goodwill wardrobe, she ached for her friend and the harsh reality of the truth that she was facing.

How could Adri possibly have believed that Harper was the one who'd stayed in the river with David? If Adri had watched Harper and David together before his fall, Harper was the one with a gruesome front-row seat for all that happened after. The truth was, Adri was in the water almost before David broke the surface. She had tried to save him, even though he tried to destroy her.

David had fallen all wrong. That much was painfully obvious, even to a pair of women who knew nothing at all about cliff jumping. Maybe it wasn't far to fall, and maybe he would have been just fine if he landed feet first. But David tumbled backward, then rolled over halfway down and hit the water on his side. The sound was what surprised Harper the most. The dull, flat thud of his body breaking against the surface. It seemed there was no splash. And then, before Harper could even form a scream, there was a crimson cloud spreading beneath and around him, as if someone had poured out a bucket of paint. Harper fell to her knees, disbelieving, horror-stricken, but Adri was already in the shallows, dragging his limp body into her arms. Cradling David's head in her quivering hands.

Had Adri repressed the truth? Endured a minor psychotic break? Lived the lie of a false memory? Or maybe it was the simple burden of guilt. She had fallen out of love with David before he plummeted from the cliff. Maybe she hadn't wanted to go to him, to rescue her fiancé from the water where he died, and had spent the next five years hating herself for the betrayal of her own brittle emotions.

But maybe Harper had done exactly the same thing. Had she pushed David? Or had he jumped?

When Harper descended the main staircase, Adri was on the
phone. Her dark hair was still damp and she wasn't wearing a stitch of makeup, yet Harper found her almost agonizingly beautiful. She wanted to hold her friend, tuck her chin against her shoulder, and weep over the years that they had lost, the lies that they had believed, the hurt they had endured. And the very next moment, she wanted to laugh. Because sometimes life was not at all what you expected it to be.

Sunshine was streaming through the tall windows of the entryway as Adri clicked off the cell phone and stuck it in her pocket. She turned to face Harper, and suddenly the light from all the tall entryway windows haloed her dark head, blessing her shoulders with all the expectation of a new day.

“You clean up nicely,” Harper said, and though she felt stupid for saying it, Adri gave her a tentative smile.

“So do you.”

There was an awkward pause, a few beats of silence as the two of them studied one another. Harper couldn't pretend to guess Adri's thoughts, but it seemed to her they were both trying to come to terms with what had happened and all that they had learned. About each other. About themselves.

“I'm not lying to you,” Harper finally offered, wishing there was a way to convince Adri that she was only interested in the truth. After all this time, all the exaggerations, falsehoods, and lies, only the truth remained.

Adri looked at her feet. “It's going to take some time,” she said slowly. “I hated him in the moment before he died.” She looked up and caught Harper's gaze. “And you.”

Harper nodded, accepting.

“And in a way, I think we are both to blame. Whether he jumped or you pushed him or I drove him to the brink, we all made this mess.” Her voice caught at the end, and Harper watched as Adri swallowed hard. “But this changes everything.”

Harper knew exactly what she meant. She was having a hard time dealing with it too, but suddenly the world was a very different place. “Why didn't we ever talk about it?” she wondered
out loud. “Before our lives spun out of control. Before it was too late.”

“We didn't have a chance,” Adri said, and just the mention of those long hours after David fell took a visible toll on her. She crossed her arms against her chest, as if warding off the memories. “As soon as we were airlifted out of there, we were separated.”

“I told them David fell.”

“Me, too.”

“Again and again and again. I think the police asked me the same question a dozen different times. And as many different ways.” Harper bit her bottom lip, remembering.

“Our stories matched even though we both walked away blaming ourselves.” Adri shook her head.

“Do you believe me?”

Adri thought about it for a second. Nodded slowly. Gravely. “I think I do. Do you believe me?”

Harper closed her eyes, pictured again the moment that David leaned in to kiss her, felt again the fabric of his shirt beneath her hands. His fingers rough and hungry against the flat plane of her stomach. She didn't know exactly what had happened, but those long minutes on the ledge had been a nightmare. He had been so mad at the world, at his own prearranged life and the way he had wrecked it beyond redemption. Though Harper couldn't understand it at the time, she knew now what it was like to have someone else call the shots. To grapple at some small power because it was the only expression of self she had left. It was a kind of oppression. And maybe that's what David had been doing all along. Wrestling Adri into submission because his own life was out of control.

By the end, David wasn't the man she once loved.

Would he have raped her in front of Adri? Harper wasn't so sure now. Perhaps his final moments weren't about sex or control or lies after all. They were about making a decision. Putting himself in a place where the answer seemed very black-and-white.

Maybe Harper could believe. She gave Adri a sad little smile. It was the best she could do. For now.

It seemed to be enough for Adri. She smiled a bit. And then she took a stuttering breath. Appeared to set their conversation aside as she recalled something. “Hey,” she said, patting the phone in the front pocket of her jeans. “I have something to tell you.”

“Will?” His name was faint on Harper's lips.

“No.” Adri shook her head. “I was just talking to Officer McNeil. My dad gave me his phone so we could stay in contact when I left the hospital, and apparently he gave his number to the police.”

“Okay . . .” Harper said slowly. She steeled herself for bad news, for a new development that would shake the tenuous calm that had settled over her.

Adri seemed to sense her friend's disquiet, and drew close so she could take both of Harper's hands in her own. “Harper,” she said, “they got him. A state patrolman picked Sawyer up just outside of Kansas City. About an hour ago.”

Harper's ears buzzed with static and her skin began to crawl. She pulled her hands out of Adri's grip to clutch at the noose that had settled around her neck. Panic was the wrong emotion, she could see that much reflected in the confusion that muddied the water of Adri's dark eyes, but Harper didn't know what else to feel. She had feared Sawyer for so long, had been so utterly convinced that he held her life in his cruel hands, that knowing he would do everything in his power to retaliate against her was a horrifying thought. But Adri was already pulling Harper into an embrace. She had to stand on tiptoes to fling her arms around Harper's shoulders, but she held her tightly, like she might never let go. “He has no power over you,” Adri whispered. “You didn't kill David. I was there.”

“But . . .”

“I don't care about any of the rest of it,” Adri cut in fiercely. “It doesn't matter. None of it.”

She didn't say I love you, and Harper didn't expect her to. It was something that they had professed all the time when they were younger, but it felt strange to admit such precious emotion now. So much had happened. They weren't the same people anymore. But they were together. They were here and they were hoping, fumbling toward a togetherness that would be entirely different than anything they had known before. It was more than Harper could have ever wished for.

When they left the mansion, Adri didn't bother to lock the door behind them.

“Aren't you worried about somebody breaking in?” Harper asked.

The way Adri cocked her eyebrow was answer enough. Harper had to agree—there wasn't much that could happen at Piperhall that would trump what had already transpired.

“It's haunted,” Adri said, but Harper could tell that she didn't mean it. Adri paused at the edge of the wide staircase and leaned back against the railing to take it all in. The high, white face of the mansion that had been their very own princess castle, the glittering windows, the scrolled edges and sharp angles and audacious air. She shook her head. “Nah. It's just a house.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I still don't know. I guess I'm waiting for inspiration.” Adri took each step slowly, tracing her hand along the stone balustrade as she went. “I'd like to figure out what Victoria would have wanted me to do with it.”

They drove back to the hospital in silence. All but one of the police cars were gone from the lane leading to the Galloway estate, but yellow tape still marked the gravel road a crime scene. Adri waved at the lone cop in the driver's seat of his squad car, and took the ditch just like Officer McNeil had instructed her to when they first arrived seeking showers and time alone. And clarity. Harper couldn't help thinking they had gotten far more than they'd bargained for.

She felt like she had lived a lifetime in the span of a couple of days. And yet, for the first time in more years than she dared to guess, Harper also felt like herself. Almost. Like the girl that she had been. Or, more accurately, the woman she had always hoped to be. It was an exhilarating feeling, and she found herself staring at her own hands, the half-moon where her bare fingernails peeked from beneath the scarlet polish that Sawyer preferred. The real Harper was in there somewhere, she could feel it. Beneath the coiffed hair and the manicured nails and the humiliation that had grown like moss over her stagnant life. A woman who laughed hard and loved fiercely and embraced the days that she had been given with an abandon that some would undoubtedly call reckless. But Harper knew she wasn't reckless. She never had been. She'd just been unapologetically, gloriously in love with life. And she would be again.

When they made it to the doorway of Will's hospital room, Adri stepped in front of Harper and whispered something to Sam and Jackson. The two men were standing with their backs against the closed door, looking for all the world like bodyguards hired to protect William Vogt. Harper wondered if they thought they needed to protect him from her. But they nodded at Adri's words, while Sam motioned Harper closer. He hugged her wordlessly and patted her back. Then he opened the door to Will's room and led Adri and Jackson away.