Present Day…

The next day, the house brimmed with activity. Cindy and Dad brought over their boys. We baked cookies in the kitchen and ate them on the front porch while the boys played football in the yard. The frosty air turned their breath into clouds and painted their cheeks bright red. I couldn’t help thinking about Stan and Marianne, and how they’d love to see their house full of happy people. I had no idea where people went in the afterlife, but I hoped they could see us down here.

“What are you smiling about?” Owen asked. In his red flannel shirt, he looked like a fierce lumberjack. His hair had grown another inch in the last month. I brushed it away from his face.

“I was thinking about Stan and Marianne. They couldn’t have any kids of their own. That’s why they had so many foster kids. It seems right to have a lot of people in this house.”

“Yep, I think so too.” He wrapped his arms around my middle and rested his chin on the top of my head. His hold tightened on my waist. The scruff of his chin brushed over my forehead. “When’s your next photoshoot?”

“I don’t know.” Traveling held less appeal today than it had a few months ago. “But I was thinking maybe you would come with me next time.”

“Really?” He pulled back to study my face. I stroked a hand along the curve of his cheek, loving the way his eyes sparkled when I touched him.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a solid maybe.”

We both laughed. It felt good to smile again after so many years of seriousness. Even though gray clouds darkened the sky and snowflakes twirled in the air, the sun had come out on my life. But the minute Michael’s car turned into the driveway, the old panic returned. He got out of the car. White snow dotted the lapels of his black trench coat and his sleek dark hair. I tried to step out of Owen’s embrace, but he didn’t let go. Michael’s curious gaze slid over the playing children, Lanie, and the Shermans before landing on my face.

“Stella, hi. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by. I was in the area and wanted to see how you’re doing. I brought this.” He extended a bottle of wine topped with a red bow.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. Do you want to come in?” I gestured toward the house. He glanced up at Owen, like he was asking for approval.

“Owen. Good to see you again.” The two men shook hands. “I can’t stay more than a minute.” The Shermans kept the kids outside while Lanie, Owen, and I escorted Michael to the house.

Once inside, he perused the living room with its cozy rugs and comfortable furniture. Warm flames blazed in the fireplace. “This place looks amazing. You did a great job. I can’t believe it’s the same home.”

“It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting there.” My chest swelled with pride. I remembered his initial doubts and curbed the desire to remind him how little faith he’d had in my abilities. It had only been a few months since we’d split up, but I felt more confident and contented than ever.

An awkward silence ensued. Michael looked at the floor. I picked at my nails. Owen watched us both with his piercing gaze. Finally, Michael cleared his throat and said, “Actually, I have something to discuss with both of you and Lanie, if you don’t mind.”

My stomach flipped over. What if he’d found the evidence in Owen’s case? Had he come to warn us? I touched his hand. “Let’s go into the study.” I closed the door behind us. Lanie went to the far side of the room, her face pale, lips pressed together in a tight line. She looked small and scared.

“What’s up?” Owen asked.

Michael went to the window and stared outside at the kids. The snow had begun to stick. A fine layer of white coated the grass. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Do you remember the girl who went missing twenty years ago? The Cartwright’s daughter?” We nodded. “The forensic results are back.” When he turned to face us, his face was more serious than I’d ever seen it. “There’s no easy way to say this. From everything we can tell, we think Chris was involved in her murder.”

The strength evaporated from my legs. I sank onto the loveseat. Owen sat beside me. He ran both hands through his hair. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice breaking on the words.

Michael nodded. “Reasonably sure. He was the main suspect from the beginning. And someone recently came forward with information tying Chris to the girl. I can’t go into the details of the case, but I wanted to prepare you.”

I put my arms around Owen’s neck and drew his head to my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” The pain and sadness in his eyes rocked me to my core.

“It’s okay,” he said. Despite his pain, his first thought was to comfort me, and it made me love him even more. “I’m not that surprised.”

“It was me,” Lanie said. Tears shimmered in her large eyes. “I told Michael what I knew about Chris.” Her tears began to flow faster, dripping from the point of her chin. “I’m so sorry, Owen. I know I should have come forward when Chris died, but I thought they’d send me away from Stella. And then you confessed, and everything went back to normal.” She twisted her hands, her pale skin getting whiter with each passing second. “The last time I saw Chris, we were down by the river. He’d been drinking, and he was different, colder. He kept talking about the Cartwright girl, and how much I reminded him of her. The more he talked, the more agitated he became. I took your knife with me. I was so mad at you, Stella, for butting into my life, and I knew you’d be pissed, so I took your knife, and I wore your favorite shirt. And then Chris got really aggressive, pushing me around and calling me a slut. I was so scared.” Her lips trembled. Michael put his arm around her shoulders. She smiled gratefully at him. “When he knocked me down, I pulled out the knife and—and—and—I had to do it. He would have killed me.”

Owen stared at her, but I lost my mind a little. Rage and frustration and pain raced through my veins. I took a step toward her, curling my hands into fists. She reared back. Michael stepped between us.

“You let Owen go to prison, and you didn’t say anything?” My lungs ached. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. Red spots swam in front of my eyes. “How could you, Lanie?”

“I’m trying to make it right.” She reached for me, but I pushed her hand away. “I know I did the wrong thing back then, but I was only fourteen, Stella. And I was terrified.”

I wanted to hate her for what she’d done to Owen and to me, but I remembered her tears the day our mom had left us, and the way she’d clung to me. “Just give me a minute,” I said. “I need to wrap my head around this.”

“It was a clear case of self-defense,” Michael said, adding his quiet voice of reason to the mix. “She could have been his next victim.”

“What happens now?” Owen asked. I pressed my ear to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat steadied my nerves.

“I’ll do what I can to straighten things out,” Michael said. His arm was still around my sister. Catching my glare, he dropped his hands to his sides and stepped away.

“I appreciate that.” The two men shook hands again.

“I really need to get going. I hope you can work through this,” Michael said. He touched my arm. “Everyone makes mistakes, Stella. Don’t forget that.”

His words carried with me for the rest of the night. Owen walked him to the door, leaving me alone with Lanie. She wrapped her arms around her waist, the way she’d done when she was little and afraid. “Please don’t be mad at me, Stella.”

“I don’t feel anything right now. I’m numb.” I sank down on the loveseat and buried my head in my hands.

“I love you more than anything, and I can’t take having you mad at me.” She dropped to her knees in front of me. “I know I’m a fuck-up. But I want to be a better person, Stella. Like you. You’ve always been there for me. Nothing ever scares you. You just take life by the balls.”

“If you had listened to me back then, none of this would have happened,” I said through my fingers.

“I was young and stupid and so angry at the world.” One by one, she peeled my fingers from my face, like she was ten and I was twelve again. “If I could go back and change things, I would.”

“It’s not just about Chris, Lanie. It’s every guy you date. When are you going to wise up? You’re a beautiful woman. You deserve better than a jobless, lowlife scum who doesn’t appreciate you. I’m not always going to be around to fix your problems.”

With the back of her hand, she swiped the tears from her cheeks then wiped mine away. “I haven’t gone out with anyone since you moved here. And I enrolled in online classes to get my GED.”

A three-month dry spell for Lanie was equivalent to a lifetime for other people. “Really? What brought this about?”

“Kimberly and Trey. They said my boyfriends are scary. I don’t want my kids to ever be afraid, Stella. Not because of me.”

I stared at the floor. Owen’s big hand smoothed over my back. More than anything, I wanted to believe Lanie had changed. Her confession to Michael was a beginning, but I couldn’t forgive her. Not yet.