Page 30 of Motion to Dismiss

“Gladly.”

We answer in unison.

He fills our glasses to the brim, sets down two menus, and disappears as quickly as he arrived.

“Your brothers just found out you’re no longer enrolled at Harvard,” she says. “I mean, you left months ago, but the news is new to them.”

“I’m shocked you didn’t tell them the same day you found out.”

“I don’t see why.” She reaches for her wine. “From what I remember, I was hell-bent on making you return and keeping that information to myself.”

A familiar burn spreads through my chest as the memory of what came next rushes back to me.

Maybe coming here with you was a bad idea.

“I stopped telling your brothers and your father things years ago.” She looks directly at me. “They were always too wrapped up in the ‘family business’ to give much thought to the little things. I don’t even think they’ve realized I’ve moved all my things out of the estate.”

“Just temporarily, right?”

“No, Scarlett.” She shakes her head. “Forever. Your father will be receiving divorce papers at the end of this month.”

“Why?” I ask. “Better yet, what happened to all those women who would kill to have access to your lifestyle?”

“I didn’t realize your father took that murder line so seriously.” Her voice drops.

“What are you saying?” I can barely hear my own voice.

“Your father is willing to permanently silence anyone he thinks is getting in his way, and I didn’t realize it until after he was arrested…”

I swallow. “Was Francis one of those people?”

“Yes.” Tears prick her eyes. “It was silly of me to ever get too close to him anyway. Your father hated the idea of me befriending any of the staff.”

“It’s not like you were dating Francis,” I say. “I really liked him, too.”

“I was in love with Francis.” She dabs at her eyes. “I should’ve taken him up on his offer to run away together, but I was too concerned with keeping my lifestyle.”

“Is he really dead?”

She bursts into sobs and nods. “Lucas all but admitted it to me weeks ago.”

I grab a napkin and move to her side of the table, pressing a hand against her shoulder.

“It’s my—It’s my fault.” Her voice breaks. “I forgot to turn off the cameras in my town car once. Just once…”

“Do you know where he, um, buried him?”

“I think I have an idea.” She dabs at her eyes again. “In one of his off-limits places at the estate, I’m sure.”

“One of?” I arch a brow. “The old water well was the only place, right?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Mom, the well was the only place he marked as off-limits, correct?”

“Sure…”

The defeated look in her eyes tells me the real answer, and I can’t help but push a little harder.