Chapter Thirteen #2
"Hey." Mia stood in the archway, holding the doorframe. "I was just… thinking about yesterday. The questions with the police."
Rowan's expression softened. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."
"They asked about the photo shoot." She stepped farther into the room and kept her eyes on Chloe. "About who was where, and what time we went to bed."
"What did you tell them?" Rowan asked.
Mia's gaze slid to Chloe, just for a second.
"I—I lied at first, because I was so scared.
But they knew about Leah's blood on my dress, so I told them how we went back out and took some photos on the bluff around midnight.
Me, you, and Leah. After everyone else was asleep.
How Leah had that nosebleed, that's how the blood got on my dress. "
For the briefest moment, Chloe went still, as if the memory had caught her off guard. Then she nodded, her voice quiet. "Yeah, the midnight shoot thing."
Mia didn't look at me. "I told them that after we were done, we went back inside. That we went straight to our sleeping bags, like before 1 a.m. All three of us, together."
Chloe scrunched up her face. "I didn't want to say anything because I thought it would get you into trouble. But Mia's right, nothing happened. We came back in and went to sleep. That's the truth."
I let out the breath I'd been holding as relief flooded through me. Their stories matched. That was good. That had to be good.
Rowan offered a sympathetic smile. "You girls have been through something terrible. It makes sense that you'd want to protect yourselves. The important thing is that you support each other."
Even though Mia had lied at first, so had Chloe. They’d feared getting into trouble, but they were telling the truth now.
My hands curled into fists in my lap. My throat tightened. "As long as you tell the truth."
I said it more sharply than I'd meant to. Mia flinched. “We are."
"Are you sleeping okay? I keep having these nightmares.
" Chloe twisted a strand of hair around her finger.
"Like, I'll wake up, and I'm on the bluff, and someone is falling, and I can't help them.
I keep trying, and I keep hearing her scream as she falls.
Dr. Monroe says it's my brain trying to process the trauma.
That even though I was asleep when it happened, part of me knows something terrible occurred. "
I felt a pang of sympathy. Chloe looked so young, so lost. Just a kid trying to make sense of something incomprehensible.
"Yeah," Mia said quietly. "I'm not sleeping much, either."
"It's so awful, isn't it? Not being able to turn your brain off."
Mia looked at the floor. "I just want this to be over."
Chloe stepped closer, reaching out to touch Mia's arm. "Me, too. But we'll get through it. Together."
Mia nodded.
My heart ached. I wanted to reach for her, pull her close, promise her it would be okay. But I couldn't, not with Rowan and Chloe watching. It would embarrass her too much.
Chloe shifted her weight, glancing toward the stairs. "Can I use your bathroom real quick? I've been holding it since we left our house."
"Sure,” I said. “You remember where it is. Upstairs, first door on the left."
"Thanks." She moved past us toward the stairs. Apollo trotted curiously after her.
Rowan cleared her throat. "We should let you rest, Mia. Dahlia, I'll email you the mock-up I drafted for the memorial program, if you could look it over for editing errors. If you and Mia could go through your photos of Leah and send them to me, Chloe's going to make a slideshow."
I stood, too. "Of course."
"It would be lovely to have candid shots. The girls at the beach, at birthdays. Leah deserves to be remembered the way she was. So vibrant and sweet."
Mia nodded. "I can do that."
A moment later, Chloe reappeared at the top of the stairs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she descended.
"We were just discussing the slideshow," Rowan said.
Chloe said, "I can come back later this week. To help you pick out the best pictures."
Rowan placed her hand between Chloe's shoulder blades and steered her daughter toward the front door. "We'll figure out a time, but only if you're up for it, Mia."
"Sure," Mia said. "Yeah, I'd like that."
At the door, Rowan paused. "Don't forget, we're meeting at noon to finalize the details for the memorial."
I raised my brows. "Um, I didn't get that text."
Rowan looked aghast. "Oh, I'm so sorry. You must've been left off the text string accidentally. Normally, I'd never let that happen, you know that. I'm just not myself this week. I did the same thing the other day, for which I apologize profusely. Brooke is hosting. Say you'll come."
I forced a smile. "Of course, I'll come."
Rowan beamed at me. "Excellent."
Chloe gave Mia a pensive wave, then followed her mother out. I watched them walk down the front path. Rowan paused to say something to a police officer at the curb. Chloe toed at a crack in the concrete. Her head down, shoulders tense, like Mia.
Mia lingered in the entryway, arms wrapped around herself, her eyes distant, fixed somewhere just past my shoulder like her mind was a million miles away.
"How's your head?" I went back into the kitchen, opened the cabinet next to the sink, and handed her some Advil. Apollo weaved in between our legs in a sinewy figure eight.
She gave me a thin smile. "Getting better. Thanks."
"I bet you're starving. How about turkey sandwiches on sourdough with extra tomatoes and a side of Baked Lays for the crunch factor?"
"Sure." She leaned against the counter, phone in hand, frowning at something online. That pink emblem again. It looked like an Instagram account. She saw me looking and swiftly pocketed the phone.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
The image of the slippers pushed in, damp and gritty with sand. My tongue felt thick. The question was right there, pressing against the back of my teeth. Why do you keep lying to me?
I pictured her face if I asked her again. The flash of hurt, or worse, something I didn't know how to name. How fast she would shut down, shut me out. I wasn't sure which answer I feared more, yet another lie or a terrible truth.
Instead, I collected the supplies from the fridge and the cabinets. I lined everything up in a neat row: bread, mayo, turkey, tomatoes, lettuce, chips. An assembly line of normal.
I picked up a slice of turkey, laid it on the bread, then another. "Hey. Vivienne mentioned Leah's diary was missing. Do you know if she kept it anywhere specific?"
There was a small pause. "Her diary?"
"Mm-hm."
Mia's mouth pinched. "I mean, she moved it around. She was always paranoid someone would read it."
Paranoid enough to hide it. "Do you know where?"
Her gaze slid past me, toward the window. The detectives were still outside, going from house to house. "I'm not supposed to say."
I kept my tone gentle. "Viv's tearing the house apart. If that diary holds a clue to who hurt Leah, then the least we can do is help her find it."
"Leah didn't want anyone to know, okay? She made me promise. She said if her mom ever found it, she'd die. She made me swear I wouldn't tell."
I put my hand on her shoulder. Her body went rigid under my palm. "I know. And you kept that promise when she was alive. You were a good friend. But whoever did this to Leah is still out there. Leah would want us to find the truth. She'd want you to be safe."
Mia’s face contorted. She was conflicted, torn between her promise to her dead friend and her desire to see her friend’s killer brought to justice.
"Whatever is in that diary can’t embarrass Leah anymore, okay? The little things don’t matter anymore. Telling us where the diary is could help the police believe you’re cooperating, that you’re telling the truth."
Finally, Mia nodded, as if the movement physically hurt. "Leah, she… the last time I saw it, she'd taped it to the back of one of her canvases."
"Taped it?"
"Like, duct-taped it flat. You can't see it unless you take the canvas off the wall and check the other side. It's the one with the scarlet flowers in the dunes, downstairs in the movie room, on the back wall."
"Okay, that's good. Very good." That was something. Mia and I were finally on the same page for a moment. "Thank you."
She pulled away from me, her shoulders sagging, her gaze fixed on the floor as if she couldn't bear to look at me. "I wasn't supposed to tell."
"You did the right thing, honey." I hoped with all my heart that the diary pointed to someone else, to anyone but Mia. Guilt wormed its way inside me, but I brushed it aside. Mia was my priority.
The roses Rowan had brought sat on the coffee table in my living room, bright and cheerful. I thought of Rowan's hand over mine, the grounded certainty in her voice.
I set my phone on the island, then picked it up again. My thumb hovered for a second over Vivienne's name before I opened our thread and told Viv where Mia thought the diary might be located, then I hit send.