I knew, before I even looked down, that it was one of Grayson’s.
“He does have an eye.”
I turned to find Zara standing beside me.
“Are you going to bid on it?” I asked her.
Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris arched a brow at me. Then, without a word, she went to up the bid that I had placed on the grandfather clock.
“Well, ship,” Max whispered beside me. “I’m pretty sure she just challenged you to a rich-people duel.”
“Easy there, slugger.” Xander appeared beside me.
“Where have you been?” I asked him, annoyed.
“I was helping Rebecca with her mom.” Xander’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet. “She doesn’t do well with wine.”
I didn’t get a chance to probe that statement further before Alisa came over to escort us to our table. “Plated dinner,” she told me. “Followed by the live auction.”
I managed to sit, eat my salad with the correct fork, and not spill anything on the silk tablecloth. Then things took a turn for the worse. A loud crashing sound broke through the din of polite chitchat. Everyone in the room turned to see Rebecca, beautiful and wan, trying to help her mother back to her feet. The easels holding the picture of Emily and the architect’s sketch had been knocked over. Rebecca’s mother yanked her arm out of her daughter’s grip and stumbled again.
Suddenly, Thea was there, kneeling between Rebecca and her mom. Thea said something to the distraught woman, and even from across the room, I could see the expression on Rebecca’s face, like she’d just remembered a thousand things she’d been trying desperately to forget.
Like this moment and the way Thea reached for her might destroy her in the best and worst possible way.
A moment later, Libby was there, trying to help Rebecca’s mom to her feet, and the grieving woman exploded.
“You.” She pointed a finger at Libby. My sister was dressed in a black cocktail dress. Her blue hair had been ironed silky straight. Instead of a necklace, she wore a black ribbon tied around her neck. She looked about as sedate as Libby ever looked, but Rebecca’s mother was sneering at her like she was monstrous. “I saw you with him. That Hawthorne boy.” She managed to stand. “Never trust a Hawthorne,” she slurred. “They take everything.”
“Mom.” Rebecca’s whisper cut through the room. Her mother dissolved in sobs. Libby became aware of the number of people staring at her and fled. I ran after her and ignored Alisa when she tried to call me back. As I passed Rebecca, Thea, and Rebecca’s mom, I heard the drunk woman whimpering the same words, over and over again.
“Why do all my babies die?”
CHAPTER 34
I made it outside to Libby and found Nash already there. “Hey now, darlin’，” he murmured. “Come back inside. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Libby lifted her head up and looked past him to me. “Sorry, Ave. When I saw her go down, I went on autopilot.” Before our lives had gotten turned upside down, Libby had been an orderly at a nursing home. She grimaced. “This is exactly what Alisa meant when she told me not to cause a scene tonight.”
“She told you what now?” Nash said, his voice low and dangerous.
Libby shrugged.
“You had no way of knowing that Rebecca’s mom was going to explode like that,” I told Libby, then I cut a glance toward Nash, who sighed.
“She’s the Laughlins’ daughter. Grew up on the estate. It was before my time—she’s got about fifteen years on Skye. From what I’ve gathered, the relationship between Mr. and Mrs. L and their daughter has always been a bit tense. After they lost Emily…” Nash shook his head. “She blamed my family.”
Both Jameson and Grayson had been there the night Emily died.
“She said all her babies die,” I murmured. Belatedly, I processed the fact that she’d been looking right at Rebecca—her living daughter—when she’d said it.
“Miscarriages.” Nash said quietly. “She and her husband were older when they started trying for kids. Mrs. Laughlin mentioned once that they’d lost multiple babies before they had Emily.”
If I thought about any of this for too long, I was going to start feeling even sorrier for Rebecca Laughlin. “Are you okay?” I asked Libby instead.
She nodded and looked toward Nash. “Could you give us a minute?”
With one last look at my sister, Nash sauntered off, and Libby turned back to me. “Avery, what did you say to Dad earlier?”