Chương 3
“Seven weeks ago, the first night she came here.”
My stomach tightened.
Vanessa said, “That’s enough.”
Marco did not look at her.
Dominic did.
“Keep going.”
Marco swallowed.
“Someone followed her car from the restaurant.”
The room seemed to contract around me.
I stared at him.
“What?”
He turned the tablet.
A grainy image showed my battered silver sedan entering the Moretti property through the front gate.
Thirty seconds behind it was a black SUV.
I had seen that SUV before.
Not at the mansion.
Outside the dialysis clinic.
Twice.
Maybe three times.
My first instinct was to tell myself I was wrong.
My second was worse.
Because in the corner of the security image, beneath the reflected gate lights, I could make out four pale numbers on the SUV’s front plate.
The same four numbers I had written on the back of a grocery receipt three weeks earlier.
The receipt was still tucked inside my wallet.
Dominic looked from the screen to me.
“Do you know that vehicle?”
Vanessa answered before I could.
“She doesn’t.”
I turned toward her.
Her face told me everything her words did not.
She knew exactly why that car had followed me.
Vanessa’s eyes flicked toward Dominic, then back to me.
It was the smallest movement, but it carried the panic of someone watching a locked door swing open.
Dominic took the tablet from Marco.
“Who owns the SUV?”
Marco hesitated.
“I’m still pulling the plate.”
“Pull it faster.”
Vanessa stepped between them.
“This is absurd.”
Dominic did not raise his voice.
“Move.”
She stared at him.
“I said move.”
Her shoulders stiffened.
Then she stepped aside.
The room had changed around us.
The guests were no longer pretending not to listen.
A woman near the piano had lowered her champagne glass without drinking.
Someone else was quietly texting.
Elliot Crane had stopped looking embarrassed and started looking interested, which somehow made him worse.
I reached into my wallet and unfolded the grocery receipt.
The ink had bled slightly where my thumb had rubbed it over the last few weeks.
I held it out to Marco.
“These four numbers.”
He looked at them.
“Where did you get that?”
“Outside my mother’s dialysis clinic.”
Dominic’s head turned sharply.
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t you report it?”
I looked at him.
“To who?”
“The police.”
“For a black SUV existing in a parking lot?”
“It followed you.”
“I didn’t know that then.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“You still don’t.”
I faced her.
“You do.”
A muscle moved near her jaw.
“You’re confused.”
“Then explain it.”
“I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“No, you probably don’t.”
I tucked the receipt back into my wallet.
“But you’re scared of one.”
That landed.
Not visibly enough for most people.
Enough for Dominic.
He looked at Vanessa for a long moment.
“Go upstairs.”
Her face hardened.
“Excuse me?”
“Go upstairs and wait for me.”
“You cannot dismiss me like a child in front of these people.”
“Then stop behaving like one.”
A murmur moved through the room.
Vanessa flushed.
“You’re choosing her over me.”
Dominic looked almost bored.
“This isn’t a competition.”
“It always is with you.”
That sentence silenced him.
Vanessa seemed to regret it immediately.
I did not understand why.
Dominic handed the tablet back to Marco.
“Get the plate.”
Then he looked at the guests.
“Party’s over.”
Nobody moved at first.
Rich people apparently needed a second invitation when being thrown out of houses they did not own.
Dominic’s voice sharpened.
“Now.”
That worked.
Movement broke out in clumsy waves.
Glasses were abandoned.
Coats were retrieved.
Conversations started in whispers before people even reached the hallway.
A woman in emerald silk squeezed Vanessa’s arm on her way past.
Vanessa jerked away from her.
Elliot approached me with his phone in one hand.
“I have video.”
His girlfriend closed her eyes.
“Of course you do.”
He ignored her.
“I started recording before the cake fell.”
I stared at the phone.
“You filmed me cleaning it?”
His confidence shrank.
“I didn’t know what was going to happen.”
“But you kept filming.”
“I thought it might help.”
“Who?”
He had no answer.
His girlfriend did.
“Your followers.”
“Claire, come on.”
“No.”
She took the phone from his hand.
He tried to grab it back.
She held it away.
“You were going to post it.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You literally typed a caption.”
His face changed.
She looked at the screen.
“‘Lake Forest meltdown.’”
He exhaled through his nose.
“It was a draft.”
Claire stared at him like she had discovered a stain beneath a rug.
Then she turned to me.
“Do you want the video?”
“Yes.”
Elliot said, “Wait.”
She looked at him.
“For what?”
“That’s my phone.”
“And this is her face.”
She sent the file to herself first.
Then she asked me for my number.
I gave it to her.
Elliot looked offended by the entire concept of consequences.
“I didn’t cause any of this.”
Claire handed his phone back.
“You watched it.”
He opened his mouth.
She walked away before he answered.
For a second, I envied her.
Not because I knew anything about their relationship.
Because she had apparently reached her limit and was allowed to leave.
My phone vibrated again.
Mom.
I answered immediately.
“I’m coming.”
“Avery, don’t speed.”
“I’m not.”
That was a lie.
“I’m making tea.”
“Don’t stand up if you’re dizzy.”
“I’m sitting.”
“You just said you were making tea.”
“I changed plans.”
I closed my eyes.
“Mom.”
“I’m okay.”
“You called me three times.”
“You didn’t answer.”
“Because I was working.”
“I know.”
Her voice softened.
“I just wanted to hear you.”
The fear underneath that sentence went through me cleaner than Vanessa’s slap.
“I’m leaving now.”
“Bring crackers.”
“You have crackers.”
“Those are stale.”
“They’re two days old.”
“They taste judgmental.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
It came out wrong.
Too breathless.
Mom heard it.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“You sound strange.”
“I’m wet and tired.”
May you like
“Avery.”
“I’ll tell you when I get home.”
