Page 178 of Gilt

“Only our people.”

“Who?” I press. I no longer know who to count as our people. The distinctions between friends and strangers feels more acute than ever before.

“Steve and your guy, Maddox. But they took off.” I can see the gears whirring in his head as he searches his memory. “And your friend.”

My blood turns to ice, and it takes all the strength I have to respond. “The one in the red dress?”

He nods.

She’d been here before the party. She had been in Jameson’s bedroom. We’d snacked in the kitchen. Of course, the guards would see her as an authorized friend of the family.

“Where was she going?”

As soon as he points in the direction of the kitchen, I take off running with Jameson at my heels. A few members of the wait staff stare when we round the corner. She isn’t here. Whipping around, I consider where she might have gone.

“If she came for the file, would she leave?” Jameson asks.

“I don’t know.” Taking it wouldn’t destroy the evidence that it contains. After all, it’s only a copy. But she’d come. I’d been wrong earlier when I told Jonas that no one else knew about our plan. Josie knew.

Because I had told her.

She knew it was a trap, and she’d walked into it. The realization nearly knocks me off my feet. Jameson catches me as I stumble, and that’s when I spot the black and white photo caught in the track of the sliding door.

Forcing myself forward, I open it and step onto the patio. The night is unusually still. This high up I might expect a breeze, but nothing disturbs the scene I find. Photos and affidavits litter the concrete as if they’ve been strewn along like breadcrumbs.

She’s leading me straight to her. I spot a dot of red in the pool, and I run toward the water. I fall before I reach it, scraping my knees on the pavement.

Jameson makes it all the way, but he stops at the edge. “It’s just a mask.”

I cry out with relief and then force myself to stand. I have to find her. When my gaze falls on her, I freeze. She’s perched on the rail of the balcony with her back to us as she looks out over the strip below.

“Josie,” I call out tentatively.

She glances over her shoulder and gives me a sad smile. It’s all the encouragement I need to step closer.

“You came,” she says. “I knew you would.”

“Whatever happened, everything is going to be okay.”

Her laughter comes out as a harsh bark. “Tell me, Jameson”—she moves, twisting on the slippery metal railing, and my heart stops until she’s turned herself around to face us—“is it okay? I killed your father. Is that okay?”

I can’t bring myself to look at him, so I stand there between the two people I love most in the world while the truth slowly tears us apart.

“I think I understand. He was your father, too, wasn’t he?” Jameson’s voice is steady and sympathetic, and for the first time since the horrible realization dawned on me, I believe it can be okay.

“You need to know...I didn’t know that,” she says as a tear streaks down her cheek. “I didn’t plan this.”

“We know that,” I tell her. “Let’s talk about this.” I beckon for her to come down, but her hands tighten on the railing.

“No one knows the truth but us. It can stay that way,” Jameson promises her.

“You really are the brother I never had.” She sniffles, hesitating for a moment as if to consider his offer. “But you don’t know the truth.”

“I do,” I say. I’ve pieced it together in fragments.

“I was looking for you.” She turns her attention to me. “We got separated and…I didn’t mean to wind up in his office. But when I did, he was nothing like I expected. He wanted me there. I knew why. I’ve had enough older men try to take me home.”

I nod encouragingly. She needs to confess so that we can all move on.