And Ruby couldn’t be innocent. If she was, it meant that someone else was guilty.
HELLO THERE! the last message had declared. From someone who had been inside my office. Preston, I’d thought at first. As a member of campus security, he’d have access to the buildings and to my office.
When I marched over here, I was thinking of Whitney. Whitney, who had applied for admission and would’ve had the opportunity to see into my office. Who might’ve noticed that mug with the bold text.
But Whitney had been interviewed by someone down the hall. It was Charlotte and Molly who’d sat with me, waiting.
“I’m actually here to talk to you, Molly.” I took the photo from my back pocket, held it out to her, watched her eyes widen, her throat move. “I’m happy to have this conversation right here, if you’d like.” I stepped back to the edge of the porch, where I knew the camera feed would pick up our conversation.
Molly let the door swing open, stepping back into her house.
Their house appeared perfect inside, like always. The counters cleaned, dishes put away. But I was starting to see the cracks in the facade. The things that had gotten away from them. The door of the cabinet under the sink, off its top hinge. The family photos that hung from the walls, that hadn’t been changed—Bob standing beside Charlotte, the girls barely up to their shoulders. As if they still existed like this. As if Charlotte never wanted to acknowledge the truth.
I slapped the photo down on the island between us. “Hello there,” I said. “Want to tell me why you keep leaving this for me?”
Molly swallowed, hand to the base of her neck. “Looks to me like you’re doing something illegal,” she said, but her voice was soft, and she looked behind her, like she was afraid. I could tell I’d surprised her, caught her off guard. That she had never expected someone here to be so direct.
“Oh, but I’m not,” I said. “And Margo… What are you doing, Molly? Why are you threatening us? What do you think they’ll say when they find out it’s you?”
“You all act like such good people,” she said, crossing her arms. “But I see you all. I see what you do.”
“This is blackmail,” I said, even though she didn’t say what she wanted in return.
“It’s just what I see,” she said with a shrug. She gave me a sly grin. “Did you know Mr. Wellman once left their baby in the car?”
The room hollowed out; a pit formed at the base of my stomach. “Yes, Molly. I did. And I know you did nothing to help.”
She frowned. “He’s not a good parent. He got distracted by a phone call when he pulled into the driveway, left that kid in the car when he went inside. But Mrs. Wellman, she had a fit. An absolute fit.” She shook her head. “It’s not safe to do things like that.”
Like Tate said, such a small thing could ruin your life.
But Molly wasn’t some innocent bystander. “And you just left him there. You didn’t think to knock on the door? To tell them?”
She blinked rapidly, as if it hadn’t occurred to her. “He was fine,” she said. “I would have. Obviously.”
But I could tell I had rattled her. “I think you don’t understand the things you see,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes. “I understood just fine. I see more than all of you. I mean, Preston lives next door, and he flirts with my sister, who is eighteen. And no one says anything. You know he brought her home once? Last year?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t know that.” But I had learned to stay quiet, that the best defense was a strong offense, and that’s exactly what Molly was doing. She was revealing it all—what everyone fought to keep hidden—to justify her actions.
“She went to some party at the college, and I guess he broke it up, found her there. Brought her back home.”
“That sounds like the responsible thing to do,” I said.
“Does it?” she asked, making a face. “Rumor at school is that there’s a guy in security who will come to the party to break it up. But sometimes he doesn’t. He just acts like he will.”
I SEE YOU.
That note I’d found in the Seavers’ upstairs office had definitely been left for Preston. Me, Margo… and Preston. That was the common thread. We had each testified in Ruby’s trial.
The threat was implied: Say it was Ruby. Stick to your statements. It had to be Ruby.
There was so much here that we wanted to keep secret, and she was reminding us of the one fact we’d always been sure of: Any one of us could turn into a suspect. If it wasn’t Ruby, it might’ve been one of us.