“Do what, June? Go to your stupid library class? For your information, I didn’t even know you were back in town. And yeah, I probably should have left when I realized it was you, but you know what? I wanted to make you uncomfortable. I wanted you to squirm. I hope you hated every single minute of it, and you need to know I’ll do it again. And every week until you leave Jericho.”
A fleck of spittle hit Juniper on the cheek, but she didn’t move to wipe it away. “Why’d you slash my tires, Ashley?”
Some inscrutable emotion washed across Ashley’s features, but then she steeled her gaze and the moment was gone. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Because I can’t think of a single person in Jericho who would be so spiteful.”
“Spiteful? Are you kidding me? You’re a despicable human being, June.”
That stung. “We were kids. Sullivan and I fell in love—”
“Your little affair was not love. Don’t cheapen my marriage, my life”—Ashley tapped her chest with her knuckles, hard—“by pretending that a few weeks one summer when you were a teenager was anything close to love.”
“It was an accident.”
“Oh, that’s rich. Do you mean that your secret relationship was an accident? Or that Willa was?”
Juniper recoiled as if she had been slapped.
“Thanks for that.” Ashley crossed her arms and gave Juniper a cold, tight smile. “If I had any questions about Willa’s parentage, I don’t anymore. The look on your face is all the proof I need.”
“Does Sullivan—”
“He’s willfully ignorant. And it’s for his own good. I can hardly stand to look at her. My children do not have a half sister.” Ashley gave a little shiver of revulsion.
Poor Willa. Blameless, naive, lovely little Willa. The line where “father” should be on her birth certificate had been intentionally left blank—a bitter tradition for the Baker girls—because June had confessed that in the weeks after the murders she had gone completely off the rails. She didn’t know who the father was. Didn’t want to know. Didn’t care. But that wasn’t true. There had only ever been one possible father, but because Juniper wanted to protect her daughter—and Sullivan and Ashley and, well, everyone—she bore her parents’ quiet shame. She would rather have them believe that she had slept with half the county than chain Sullivan to her when he had already let her go. The girl that June had been was hurt and reeling, and she had believed with the ingenuous certainty of a crushed nineteen-year-old that Willa would be better off without him. That they both would.
Of course, no one came forward. There wasn’t even the faintest whisper of who the father might be, and eventually people stopped wondering. June and Sullivan had hidden their relationship meticulously, making sure the only people who ever saw them together were their siblings. And none of them would ever come forward. Willa was the opposite of a virgin birth—she was anybody’s baby.
But Ashley’s derision changed everything. Juniper was suddenly, unshakably sure that she had made a terrible mistake. The thought shot through her like a bolt of electricity: Sullivan should know.
“She has his eyes,” Juniper said. She didn’t even realize she had spoken out loud until Ashley hissed at her through her pursed lips.
“Shut up. Shut up. Don’t you say that. Sullivan Tate has three children, and they all have my eyes.”
At that moment a cry rang out behind Ashley. “Mama?”
There was a toddler sliding slowly down the steps on her bottom. She was facing them, her chubby arms outstretched toward Ashley as she pitched forward and came precariously close to tumbling headlong.
“Turn around, baby!” Ashley called, her voice, her entire bearing, instantly changed. She took a few hurried steps toward the staircase, twisting her arms in front of her as if to remind the little girl how it was done. “Just like Mommy taught you. On your tummy. That’s a good girl.”
Juniper’s throat felt thick, and unwelcome tears sprang to her eyes. She quickly swiped them away while Ashley’s back was turned.
In spite of everything, it was clear that Ashley was a good mom. She had a beautiful life, beautiful children. What was Juniper doing? What did she hope to accomplish by coming out here and confronting her? Juniper was the outsider, the exile who had abandoned everyone and everything—including her own daughter. She had relegated Willa to a life as nobody’s girl. Or, maybe—horrifyingly—the Butcher’s Girl.