Chapter Thirty
Andi
Two weeks later
Tia’s funeral is on a Friday afternoon, and they want to keep me in the hospital longer, but I insist on being there, so I’m
reluctantly sent home with orders to rest. They’ll continue to monitor me closely for signs of infection, but after two surgeries,
I’m ready to get out.
The early-November cold snap has brought with it a dusting of snow as everyone gathers at O’Malley’s pub after the service
to raise a drink—a celebration of life, Ray calls it—just like she would want. Inside the warm bar, tables are overflowing
with people and pints, winter coats hanging on chairs and a fried-food smell that wafts through the air. There’s a sense of
safety nobody has felt in a long time now that the monster is gone—there is a sense of peace amongst the mourning for Tia.
I didn’t tell anybody what I did. They only know Tom killed Tia.
In fact, Ray tells everyone I’m a hero—that my bravery in confronting Tom is what led to the domino effect and set the subsequent events in motion that ultimately ended Tom.
I know the truth, though. Does keeping this secret make me the worst person to ever live, or is what I’m telling myself—that this is the best way to protect my family—the truth?
Why tell anyone when we found the real killer?
Maybe because laid out in front of me is now a life of shame. I’ve learned what I’m capable of and, frankly, it scares the
hell out of me. I’ll be living a lie for the rest of my life.
Footage of Tom’s father, Al Blanc, whose real name is actually Murphy Terreli, as it turns out, plays over and over on the
news—his dramatic arrest and updates on his charges and trial. The TV is muted behind the bar and nobody is paying attention,
but I stare at the clip for the fiftieth time, wondering how this one man with nine alias names and a rap sheet a mile long
got away with so much. He’s turned my entire life upside down, but he just looks like a guy. Just a regular guy who always
brought chocolate marshmallows for the grandkids and liked a G&T at the neighborhood parties. I stare at the close-up of his
face—the cold eyes I never noticed in the handful of times I met him—and I shudder.
I don’t even need to have the sound playing to know what the next news clip says. A photo of Thomas Blanc along with all his
aliases shows on the screen. He was found on the rock ledge of the cliff where he fell, thirty feet below. He suffered multiple
injuries, but he’s not dead. He’s at Mercy General, in a police-guarded room, awaiting transfer to prison once he’s well enough
to await trial. I’m glad he’s not dead. He’ll get to pay for all he’s done instead of taking the easy way out.
Carson comes over with a pint of Guinness in hand and kisses me on the head, then takes Dez to play pinball in the back room.
Roxie brings over a couple of coffees and sits next to me.
She slides one my way and we sip on them, watching the news silently together for a moment.
We’ve tried to shield the kids from news footage, although it’s hard to keep them from all of it.
She hadn’t seen this angle on the story yet.
Her face lights up and she puts her arm around me and gives me a squeeze.
“Wow,” she says, watching the closed captions and looking at me. “You’re famous.”
I know the story the news is playing by heart: fearless and brave Andi, Regan and Sasha, three women forever linked by tragedy
and heroism as they worked together to bring down one of the biggest white-collar organized crime rings in the tri-state area.
But I didn’t know it was Tom when I stormed over to Sasha’s. I’m just a liar who was in the wrong place at the wrong time . . .
again. The fallout of a bad situation has dictated my life and maybe that’s not how I want to live anymore.
“You’re a hero, Mom,” Roxie says with pride in her eyes. But the words from the news repeat in my head. There’s a sense of safety nobody has felt in a long time now that the monster is gone. Is the monster really gone, though? Or just sleeping?