Page 125 of Forever Gone

“You didn’t know them well.”

“Not in person. But what we said at lunch kept bothering me, so I spent part of this afternoon going back through old New Beginnings threads.”

Carol’s attention rose from the plate.

Deb folded her napkin once, then again.

“I keep thinking the police might need to know about New Beginnings,” Deb continued. “I know there are other women who use it, and we don’t want them exposed when they’re going through difficult divorces… Especially those facing violence… But what if telling the police about the group might help them stop another murder?”

Carol’s fingers closed around the fork.

“Have you told anyone about the group?”

The question came softly, each word measured.

Deb shook her head. “No.”

Carol’s shoulders eased.

“I nearly called this afternoon,” Deb said. “Then I worried about the other women. The group only works because people believe it’s private. Some of them have husbands checking phones and bank statements. If names started coming out, it could put survivors at risk.”

“That’s good.” Carol gave a slow nod. “Those poor women came to us in confidence.”

The words should have reassured Deb.

They did not.

Carol sounded as if she were reading a notice written by someone else. Her voice held the proper concern, but none of it reached the rest of her.

Deb picked up her water. “Confidentiality matters. I know that. But three members are dead. Protecting the women who remain may mean telling the police what the victims shared.”

“Protecting them.”

“Yes.”

Carol gave a quiet laugh and shook her head.

Deb lowered the glass. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You laughed.”

“Did I?”

The same question again. First the clock, now the laugh. Carol had begun treating obvious things as if Deb had invented them.

Deb kept her tone even. “I said the group has vulnerable members.”

“Vulnerable,” Carol repeated.

Contempt sharpened the word.

Deb leaned back slightly. “Some are.”

“Most of them describe themselves that way.”

“Because some are frightened.”