“You don’t think so?”
There must have been something in Olivia’s face, because the girl tensed. Got edgy.
And leaped out of the car.
The rain was coming down at a steady clip, and the girl hunched into her jacket, arms around her waist again as she headed toward the lake.
Olivia followed her down the path. Something in her had shifted, broken open. She was furious. She didn’t know if she was mad at Park or this girl, but she wanted answers.
The girl whirled on her. “Why are you following me? Leave me alone.”
“You want to know who I am? I’m the one Park Bender really loves. I’m his girlfriend. We’ve been together for years. And I think you’re lying. I think you just want his attention.”
“Oh, screw you.” The sneer was nasty, and she lunged at Olivia, arms up.
Olivia ducked the punch and hit the girl with her own, connecting solidly, across the side of her head.
The momentum and the punch took her off balance, and the girl went down in the weeds headfirst. With the thump of her body on the path, the heat went out of Olivia.
Served her right. The girl had tried to punch Olivia in the face. She’d had no choice but to lash out.
Olivia started back toward the car. “Get up. I’ll drive you back to campus. Stay away from Park.”
There was no response.
A chill ran down Olivia’s spine. She walked to the girl’s side. Knelt. The girl’s eyes were open, wide and staring. As Olivia watched, they went as blank as the darkened sky above.
Panic shot through her. She touched the girl’s neck where her pulse should be. Nothing. Blood oozed from a deep, wide cut on the side of her head.
Oh my God oh my God oh my God.
Olivia was frozen. She didn’t know what to do. Call Park? The police? How was she going to explain this? It was an accident. The girl was trying to hurt her. She was defending herself. The girl must have hit her head on a rock when she fell.
Fifty lines ran through her mind; none of them were right. Line fifty-one was the only one that made sense.
Hide her.
The lake was close. She could hear the water lapping against the bank.
Thunder boomed, making her body shudder, and a thin streak of lightning showed her the path. The girl was heavy, but smaller than Olivia. She managed to get her onto a shoulder and staggered to the lake. There was a small ledge that jutted out over the water. It would have to do.
She filled the girl’s clothes with rocks.
Rolled her closer.
Pushed her off the edge into the water.
Heard the deafening splash.
Olivia cried all the way back to Nashville. And never spoke of her surprise trip to Chapel Hill to anyone. But that letter. Written to a grieving mother. Not so much a confession as a plea for understanding. It was an accident. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked. Please, please, forgive me.
Then someone else knew her secret.
A man, who read her sins, obsessed over them, and recreated them.
EPILOGUE
AN ENDING
Some would say the divorce happened with undo haste, but when two people are determined to be consciously uncoupled as quickly as possible and have nothing left to fight over, the process is simpler. He wanted the house, she did not. She wanted the Jeep, he did not. Their business assets were too individualized to benefit one another, so they stayed with their owners. There were no more embryos to fight over. They agreed to split the proceeds of the memoir and the subsequent documentary; she was such a big part of the story, it was only fair.
Other than that, they quickly faded from one another’s lives.
When you share a secret so big that it will bury you both, you take a sacred vow of perpetual secrecy, and move on. A little more than hope for the best, a little less than surety.
Park and Darby married a year to the day after their first face to face meeting. Olivia thinks it strange, their intense attraction. He killed her oldest child, after all. But they shared a second, a vivacious, brilliant, beautiful girl who they both dote on. Darby supposedly understands Park in a way Olivia no longer can and has been instrumental in helping him connect with his biological children. She helped him complete his dreams of having a family. Olivia doesn’t resent him, or her, or them. Not anymore.
She and Lindsey rarely speak, one of the situation’s greatest casualties. A bridge too far, staying friends with the sister of her ex-husband. The Benders always have been good at circling the wagons.
Lindsey and Lucía are also married now, living in Lindsey’s Nashville house that was always too big for one. Lucía hired a decorator, one of Olivia’s competitors, to warm up the house, to bring in vibrant colors and furniture people understood how to sit on. Lucía fits into the family with ease; even Park had forgiven her. The Aunties, as they were affectionately known among the Halves, were popular guests and devoted members of nearly every philanthropic organization in Nashville.
Olivia has not heard from Perry. He continues his position with the BBC, racking up awards for his beautiful photography of the relative unknown. She misses him, but she can’t really blame him. The shock of their final meeting, to go from such love and joy to such chaos and fear and death, was insurmountable. He knew—or suspected—what Peyton Flynn’s secret was. She could see it in his eyes. Though she never admitted it aloud, both the brothers seemed to know what she’d done. They did not forgive her the damage she’d caused. She called. She wrote. Perry never answered. Finally, she stopped trying.
She hopes that one day he’ll come for her again, the way he did at the beach, all those years ago. And then he’ll know.
The boy is five now. He has his father’s soft gray eyes and his mother’s dark chocolate hair. He is sturdy, tall for his age, and the happiest child she’s ever seen.
After all she’s been through, all she’s done, right and wrong, sinner and saint, the murder and the miscarriages, the secrets and the lies, the forgiveness, the absolution, to be given the gift of a son who looks so much like his father seems the most remarkable grace.
She named him West. West Finley Hutton. Should she ever decide to tell his father the truth, she supposes they could add a Bender to the moniker, but for now, he is her darling West, her greatest joy, her reason for living. Together, they have made a new life in Monterey. It was an easy sell: Olivia needs to be near the production studios for her show. The area affords her glorious views to work with, a beach to stroll on, access to stunning raw materials, and monied patrons who are in regular pursuit of a fresh look for their lives.
And as much privacy as she can manage, considering the documentary and subsequent memoir made them both famous, for a time. The design show has only made her more so.
The gates are tall, the adobe walls thick, and the path to the beach is studded with cameras.
The past rarely stays hidden. Olivia knows this. But for now, she is safe. They are both safe.
THE MAN WITH MANY FACES
Documentary Script （Draft）
SCENE
VIDEO
AUDIO
1
The Setup: Park
B-Roll: Scenes from a lab, test tubes and centrifuges spinning, scientists in lab coats.
Text: “Winterborn Life Sciences, Chapel Hill, North Carolina”
Text: “Helping Create Families Everywhere”
FADE TO:
B-Roll: PARK BENDER’S office