Page 251 of Wicked Brutal

“Send them.”

Her eyes flick to mine. “All of them?”

“Every one you’re comfortable sending.”

“I want you to have all of them.”

My phone starts vibrating with the messages. I keep FaceTime open and start scrolling.

The first photo loads. Tobias. I’ve known that kid most of his life. Watched him chase frogs between our lake houses. Seen him jump into water nobody said he could. Had him talk at me for twenty straight minutes about something I stopped following nineteen minutes in. There’s a red mark across his face. The next picture is his arm. Fingerprints. My jaw locks.

Then Ally. Her arms are worse in the pictures. The mark on her cheek. Her lip. I stare at that one too long.

Then Jane’s come through, and I stop. Her shoulder, already bruising. The angry mark along her side from the table. Her wrist. Her arm.

For months we’ve wondered why Jane never did more. Why she let Roman make every decision. Why she whispered instead of screamed. Why every small act of helping Ally had to happen when Roman wasn’t looking. Now I’m looking at part of the answer.

Roman O’Toole hit his six-year-old son. Grabbed and shook my girl and slapped her across the face. Then beat his wife when she tried to stop him. I save every picture.

Roman doesn’t know Ally is carrying my baby. Doesn’t know she’s mine. Doesn’t know the five of us are already in this. Doesn’t know Arthur’s been digging. He has no idea how many people are quietly standing on the other side of this. Good. Let him stay stupid a little longer.

“There’s more,” Ally says.

“Tell me.”

She starts with the ring — her mom’s face when she saw it. Not happiness. Fear. Then the envelope. “Celeste Fournier. The wedding planner.”

I grab the notebook beside my laptop. “Spell it. What did Jane say?”

“She saw the name and said, ‘Celeste Fournier agreed?’”

I write it down. “Agreed.”

“That’s what caught me too. She wouldn’t really explain it. Just that Celeste is selective and everyone in their circle knows her.” I nod. “So I asked if she planned Victor’s other weddings.”

My pen stops. “And?”

“She avoided it. So I asked about Marianne. That’s when she told me she knew her.”

I lean back. “How well?”

“Not well, she said. But enough.” Ally pulls her knees closer. “She said Marianne used to be funny. Social. Charities, friends, traveling. Then she married Victor and started disappearing. Victor answered invitations for her. She’d agree to something and he’d call and cancel it later. Eventually people stopped hearing from her at all.”

Exactly what we’ve been finding. Exactly what Bella warned her about.

“Did your mom think something was wrong?”

“Yes. No hesitation. She said she was afraid for her sometimes.”

I write it down. “Anything else?”

“I asked why Victor. She gave me the usual — business, connections, their families knowing each other. So I asked if Dad owed him something.” Her voice tightens. “She reacted. Just stopped for a second. Then I asked what Dad gets when I marry Victor.”

I already know from her face that this is the part. “What did she say?”

“’It isn’t simply what your father gets.’”

My pen stops. I look up. “So Victor gets something.”