Page 49 of The Woman I’ve Become

“Good thing. The weather forecast shows we’re in for some rough weather the next couple of days. It starts later in the day tomorrow. So early is good.”

I expect it will be a stormy weekend in more ways than one. It’s good that Olivia will be in the city.

I push to my feet. “I’ll see you in the morning.” I plan to slip into Olivia’s bed and sleep with her. Perhaps I should pull a piece of furniture in front of the door. Who knows? The woman could decide to kill me in my sleep. She’s spiked my drink or food at least once since we got here.

Except I’m not really worried about her murdering me—at least not yet. It’s the same reason I wasn’t worried about my daughter’s safety. You see, there is one thing I know with complete certainty. The endgame I suspect of this dastardly scheme requires me to be alive.

They cannot under any circumstances get what they want without me.

“Night,” she calls after me.

I wonder if she recognizes that everything is different now.

I see her clearly. Soon she will see me just as clearly.

Part Two

How This Ends

21

The weather forecast for this dreary Friday is heavy rains and thunderstorms. The wind whips the trees as if summoning the expected dark clouds with their wafting limbs.

I wave as Phillip, his mother, and Olivia drive away. My heart hurts. Sending her off this way is one of the hardest things I have ever done. Other than my hospital stay after the accident, we have never been apart. I love her more than life. Yet I understand that for the moment she is better off in the city. Her being away from here will allow me to do whatever is necessary. It’s better that Olivia is not a part of any of this.

Though Catherine is eighty years old, she is quite youthful for her age. She will see after Olivia so that Phillip can attend to some of the necessary elements of his work and the campaign. She will also provide a buffer in the remote event Acacia is telling some semblance of the truth about Phillip. Though I refuse to believe he would harm our daughter, I’m not willing to take the risk.

I tell myself all will be fine as I head back into the house. They should arrive home before the storm hits Manhattan. Based on the dark clouds looming overhead and the way the wind is kicking up here, this one is threatening to show off.

Now that it’s just the two of us, I can focus on the other threat looming.

“Tea?” Acacia asks as I wander back into the kitchen.

“Tea would be nice. Thank you.” I feel fidgety. It’s difficult for me to relax when I’m away from Olivia. It’s ridiculous, really. The child will be seven on her next birthday. I cannot hold her so tightly forever. But I never want to let go. Maybe because I know far more than the average mom about the horrors lurking in the dark corners of the world.

“I tried calling Helen again,” Acacia says as she sets the tea in front of me. “Still no answer.”

“So strange. I hear from Helen more often than this when I’m in the city. There must be something wrong.” I suppose it’s possible she’s just busy. It is mid-May. She probably has several summer houses in need of readying for the coming season. The idea that someone else was here at the house with her and she didn’t tell me nags at me. It’s so unlike Helen.

“I could drive to her house,” Acacia offers. “See if she’s home. Maybe her cell phone isn’t working.”

Possibly. Almost no one has landlines anymore. It’s a cell phone or nothing. “We’ll give it a while longer, then we’ll drive over together.” I feel as if I’m stuck in this limbo waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Without Olivia, even the air feels heavier.

Cradling her cup of tea, Acacia glances toward the window. “It might not be safe to go out later.”

I follow her gaze to the view of the tree branches rocking even more chaotically. She is probably right. “We can hope she’ll return my calls before we have to go hunting her down.”

Acacia sighs. “I guess given the weather we’ll have to postpone initiating our other plan until tomorrow.”

Oh yes, the plan that’s not really a plan. We’re here. Alone. The trouble knows where we are, and it will arrive in its own time, which I suspect will be sooner rather than later. I would be a fool not to understand her so-called plan is nothing more than a teaser to keep me on the hook. But it’s not working.

“I suppose so,” I say since she stares at me expectantly. She’s thrown off her mask of “patience” entirely now.

In other news, I made the mistake of checking comments to this morning’s podcast. They were more vicious than the ones left about the Times article. The woman is obviously a fraud in more ways than one. The sheer arrogance of her! She should have been one of the girls who didn’t come back.

If all those people only knew. Conversely, when Phillip was here picking up Olivia, he mentioned having received several calls from publishers urging him to speak with me about the memoir. There’s nothing like the hint of murderous secrets to draw in an audience.