Page 163 of Trust No One

Edith released a breath. “You shouldn’t have hired her. It gave her ideas.”

“About what?”

“Being a part of this family. Girls like her will do anything to feel like they belong.”

I’d never made any promises to Amy beyond a small paycheck and room and board. But maybe just allowing her into the house had hinted at a relationship that wouldn’t happen.

“Did Amy date anyone?”

“I have no way of knowing,” Edith said. “We were coworkers. Not friends.”

“No one visited her while she was here?”

“I didn’t see anyone. But I went home most evenings by six p.m.”

“How was she with Mom?”

“As good as she could be. You know how agitated your mother could be in the evenings.”

“I remember.”

Edith glanced toward Molly in the living room. “I want to come back. I’d like to see Molly weekly.”

“Of course. But call before you come.”

“Of course, Miss Hale.”

Chapter Sixty

Judson

Friday, October 23, 2026, 10:30 a.m.

My call to the judge about the Hale exhumation had been straightforward. I’d laid out the facts, assuring him I had Raine Hale’s permission, and within the hour he’d signed the order.

Exhumations were rare and messy. They stirred community gossip and drew unwanted media attention. The funeral home now had a crew scheduled to dig graves for Maria and Gabe Durant on Monday. Edith had settled very quickly on a traditional burial. The exhumation would be the same day the graves were dug, and the funerals would be held within the next few days.

Now I headed to Roanoke to speak to a Vivian Collins. She worked in a hair salon in a suburban strip mall. She’d agreed to meet me for coffee before her shift. The café was crowded, people in jeans and sneakers hunched over mugs. I ordered a black coffee and scanned the room and spotted her in the corner.

Neat, composed. Blond hair cut with precision. Polished nails. The photo I had was nearly two decades old, but the resemblance was there. The fuller-faced girl with shaggy, dark hair had sharpened into this woman.

Amy had left foster care on her eighteenth birthday and turned up at Hale House within days. I couldn’t help but wonder—where would Amy have landed if she hadn’t found Raine?

I stopped a few feet short of the table. “Ms. Collins?”

She looked up, eyes widening slightly. “Yes. Agent Blackwood?”

“Yes, ma’am. Mind if I sit?”

She gestured at the empty chair with her manicured finger. “Of course.”

I slid into the seat. “Appreciate you meeting me.”

“I’m glad you agreed to see me.”

“It’s what I do.” After Vivian’s call, I’d read Amy’s foster care file.

“You want to talk about Amy?”