Chapter 34 #2
Amber frowned, squinting at Frankie as if she wanted to argue, which made Frankie curse her tongue. Whatever had happened between Estelle and Amber, it had caused a deep rift. She should have assumed Amber wouldn’t welcome the comparison.
Instead of kicking that hornet’s nest, she forged on to answer the question, hoping that would steer the conversation right.
“The short version is that the school we run is having financial trouble,” she said. “After Mom died—” She stopped herself again, her gaze flying to Amber’s in alarm as if she’d said too much. What if she didn’t know?
“It’s okay. I knew,” Amber said, reading her mind like only a sister could, then bringing her mug to her lips. “Continue.”
Frankie explained about the account she’d found and the payments, leaving out the other, unrelated lies for now.
“I was trying to find an explanation for all the weird things that have surfaced since she passed. And I’d learned about you—that she’d had another child, I mean.
” Frankie glanced at Amber, who was listening with a guarded expression.
“Anyway. I came here to find out where the payments went. Found the boarding school—and I’m still not clear on how it’s connected, by the way—then I remembered the stash of lavender products under her guest-room bed. ”
Amber’s eyes widened. “She kept everything?”
Frankie nodded. “So I followed the trail. I didn’t expect you to be here, but when you answered the phone…”
“Yes, about that,” Amber said, setting her mug down next to her. “I didn’t mean to hang up on you—I was just so shocked at hearing your voice that I dropped my phone. The screen cracked, and I… I guess I didn’t know what to do.”
“I tried calling again.”
She bit into the corner of her lower lip. “I know. I’m sorry.”
For a while, neither of them said anything, the magnitude of them being in the same room reverberating again through Frankie. She couldn’t be upset with Amber for not picking up the phone. By all objective standards, this was the kind of surprise that needed digesting.
“Did you work at the school?” Frankie asked, picking up that loose string instead. “Is that why she sent money?”
“Work?” Amber frowned. “No, but I was a student there a long time ago. Oh.” She craned her neck as she spotted something outside the window. “That’s John and the kids back now—they’ve been at his parents’ today. Let me give them a heads-up.”
“Of course.” Frankie’s head swam with the information that Amber had been at St. George’s Academy.
So maybe the abduction story had been inspired by the Hattiesburg family after all.
Maybe Estelle and Greg had simply decided to give Amber a solid education.
She would have been twelve in 1988, which fit the timeline.
If the more recent payments were the tail end of a lengthy payment plan, that would also explain how they’d afforded to send Amber there, though it did strike Frankie as a little odd that anyone would send their young child abroad for school, especially since Estelle had homeschooled Frankie.
Then again, Uncle Ray always talked about his time at Eton as some of the best years of his life, so what did she know?
Footsteps outside the door put Frankie on alert, and she stood as Amber’s family entered the kitchen.
“Frankie, this is John, Evie, and Daniel. Family, this is Frankie.”
Frankie waved at her niece and nephew and shook John’s large hand when he offered it. He was a broad man, not much taller than his wife, but with shoulders and arms that spoke of hard manual work. Kind eyes that reminded her of Owen.
“Frankie,” he said, curiosity and something else more emotional lining his features. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“You as well,” she said, even though she hadn’t known he existed until a few minutes ago.
He and Amber shared a look, then he turned to the twins, who were watching them from a few yards away, disengaged enough to almost camouflage their interest in that off-handed way only tweens could pull off.
“Come on, kids—let’s run out and pick up something for dinner, shall we? Leave the ladies to it.”
Evie looked over her shoulder at Frankie as she stepped outside, their eyes meeting long enough that Frankie saw herself reflected therein.
Evie may have had John’s reddish-brown hair, but the Lavigne family resemblance was still strong.
How odd to have such a connection thrust in your lap when you’d thought there was no one.
Amber was watching her when Frankie returned her attention to her sister. “So that’s my family,” she said, a fond smile lingering on her lips.
“They seem wonderful,” Frankie said, and she meant it. Her sister had made a nice life here. “I’m happy I got to meet them.”
Amber nodded before sipping her tea. She frowned as the beverage hit her lips. “Urgh, cold,” she said. “Can I get you a refill?”
Frankie declined, eager to continue their conversation instead. “Um, you were saying you were a student at St. George’s Academy?”
Amber set the kettle down after pouring hot water into her mug. “Right.” She pulled out another round stool and sat down at the short end of the island.
“Whose idea was it for you to go to school in Aftbury of all places?” Frankie asked. “Did Mom have a connection there? Or Dad maybe?” It could have been Greg, she thought. It didn’t quite fit with the few things she knew about him, but there were large gaps in her knowledge.
“It was after Dad died,” Amber said. “Frankie…”
After Greg? But then she would have already been born.
Frankie’s brow creased as she tried to puzzle a new timeline together where she and her sister had met before as children.
That meant Estelle would have been a single mother of two.
A boarding school could have relieved some of the parenting burden.
“Did you want to go?” she asked. “I mean I assume you did since you ended up staying here permanently.” She gestured around the room as the sun passed behind a cloud outside the window, muting the light.
The horizon was dark beyond the shop, like a front was gathering. Was rain good for a lavender farmer?
“Frankie…” Amber said again, clasping her hands together.
“But why did she never tell me I had a sister? That’s what I don’t understand.” Frankie turned back to meet Amber’s gaze and found it shifting from wavering to resolute.
“Because…” Amber sighed. “Because you don’t. Frankie, I’m not your sister. I’m your mother.”