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Ella walked out the door, shepherding Chloe with one arm, her eyes still on Scott and Liv.
Once the girls were safely away, Molly turned back to her husband and friend.
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” she said, her voice rising with a note of hysteria.
“Olivia,” Scott said, still staring at Liv. “Why don’t you explain things? Starting with why you’re here, in Durango, and ending with why you’re baking cookies with my daughter.”
Liv’s eyes, dark and wild, met Molly’s. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But then I met you,” she nodded at Molly, “and Ella and I just...” She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear escaping between her dark lashes. “I’m sorry.”
Molly’s chest constricted. Some crucial piece of information was missing, that was obvious, and she kept looking back and forth, as if she could put it together by studying their faces.
“I don’t understand,” she managed to say.
“Did you come here looking for me?” Scott said to Liv, still not acknowledging Molly.
Liv put a hand to her mouth, then nodded.
“What?” Molly said.
“How did you find me?” Scott demanded.
Liv’s hands started to shake, and Molly watched as the trembling in her fingers spread up her arms until even her lips were trembling. “It was the picture Molly posted of you. When you got engaged. I saw it and I recognized you and I...”
Molly’s mind jumped back to the morning after she’d posted that picture, waking up to see Scott standing over her, anger clouding his features.
“And then you sought out my wife?” Scott shouted, making Liv flinch. “And our daughters? And became friends with them so you could—what? Turn me in? Send me to prison?”
Molly had the vague sense that everything was shifting, her world dissolving like chalk sidewalk drawings in the rain. “No,” she said, confused. “Chloe ran into Liv at the park. You weren’t looking for us.” She looked at Liv. “Right?”
Liv sent her a pleading glance. “I’m sorry, Molly.”
“You came here looking for Scott?” she whispered.
“I saw the picture...” Liv trailed off.
That picture. And Scott’s reaction. What Molly had interpreted as annoyance—a private man’s reluctance to engage with social media—had been fear. Fear of this exact occurrence, of being discovered by someone who knew his past. And she, Molly Sullivan, had made it a reality.
She should have felt triumphant—if he had been honest with her, she never would have posted that picture. But instead her chest felt hollow. What was Liv planning on doing?
“She’s Kristina’s sister, Molly,” Scott said in a hard voice. “How could you be so gullible?”
Molly flinched at his tone but spoke to Liv. “You knew all along? This entire time?”
It crystallized then: running into Liv at the park; outside the bakery. She’d posted on Instagram about those outings—it would have been easy for anyone to find her. And then, Molly realized with a wave of horror, she’d invited Liv into her home, into her life. She’d trusted her.
But it didn’t make sense. When Molly had been panicking, certain her husband was a murderer, Liv had talked her down, tried to make her see that none of what she’d read online was conclusive. If Liv had befriended her to find Scott and turn him in, why had she done all of that?
“What are you going to do, Olivia?” Scott said, his voice sharp as a broken bottle. “Call the FBI? What about Ella, what about Molly and Chloe? It would ruin their lives.” His voice dropped. “Is that what you want?”
“No,” Liv whispered, those bright spots on her cheeks burning like she’d been slapped.
“Then why?” Molly asked, desperate for answers.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Liv started, glancing between Scott and Molly like a caged animal. “I came here to find him, yes, and—and then I met you, and I met Ella. I wanted to know her, and...”
Molly wanted to break in and explain to Scott what Liv had done—that without Liv, Molly would have taken the girls and left him, wouldn’t have even given him a chance to explain.
But then she glanced behind her out the open door to see the car parked on the side of the road. Chloe and Ella were inside, windows rolled down. Ella stared out the window, listening to the adults’ conversation. Molly hoped she wasn’t catching any of it.
