Chapter 31
We stood on the small concrete pier at the Breakers—the same one where we’d dropped Michael Winthrop’s remains into the deep blue sea after the storm.
The water stretched out endlessly, glittering in the spring sun. Seagulls circled high above, their sharp cries cutting through the steady sound of waves. A soft breeze carried the salty air.
Daniel accepted the urn from Hudson with a quiet nod. Hudson had fully recovered, which was an incredible relief.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Hudson said. His gaze lingered on the urn. “Goodbye, Cynthia. I hope you find peace, wherever you are now.” He stood there a moment longer, then turned and walked up the long staircase back to the Breakers.
Daniel stepped closer and carefully handed the urn to me. It was simple but beautiful: smooth, cream-colored limestone, cool beneath my fingers.
“How did she die?” I asked softly, my arms tightening around it.
Daniel hesitated, his lips pinched, his eyes shifting away briefly like he was considering sparing me. Then his gaze met mine, steady and unflinching, as if he’d sworn it out loud: no more secrets.
“Suicide,” he said. “An overdose of her sleep medication. It came out of nowhere. She’d shown no signs of suicidal thoughts.
Ever. I had her evaluated by a psychiatrist after you left.
He adjusted her prescriptions but cleared her of any risk.
Even after everything that happened that night, Hudson didn’t want to involve the police, and she begged us to let her stay here.
I respected both of their wishes and let her stay.
We reinforced the doors and let Tara go with a generous severance.
I thought I’d told you that before. Except for that part about the suicide.
Sorry if I didn’t. I haven’t been myself lately. ”
“No, you did,” I said quietly. “And thank you for taking such good care of her. She refused to leave, and you let her stay. You turned the basement into a luxurious apartment. You kept her safe from prison and those cruel psych wards. Putting yourself in danger to do it. I don’t know anyone else who would have done even a fraction of what you’ve done for me. ”
His eyes widened slightly, and something shifted in his expression.
It was relief, faint but visible. It warmed me to see even a sliver of peace in him.
He looked tired. His elegant black suit fit him perfectly, but he’d lost weight, and the dark circles under his eyes told me how many nights he’d gone without sleep.
Seeing him like that broke me in ways I couldn’t name.
My love for him hadn’t just survived all this.
It had grown. He was vulnerable and worn, the boy I once knew lingering in the man beside me.
The one I’d always protect. Always love.
“None of this is your fault, Daniel,” I said, stepping toward the edge of the pier. “It was her last wish to rest here?”
He nodded. “There was a note. Hudson found it next to her body. It only said to put her in the water. But I thought that’s a bit much. So I paid cash at a funeral home that didn’t ask questions, and for the right price, had her cremated off the books.”
I opened the urn and tipped it over. The ashes poured out, carried by the breeze, scattering into the sunlight before falling into the restless sea. The waves swallowed what remained without ceremony.
I stood still for a long moment. The sadness was there, heavy and complicated, but I wasn’t sure who I was mourning. Cynthia? My father? His mother? My grandpa? Maybe all of us.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daniel watching me, his gaze steady, searching my face for something I wasn’t sure he’d find.
Was it strange that I didn’t cry? Did that make me heartless?
Anger stirred too, sharp and crystal clear.
How could I not feel resentment toward her, especially if she’d truly had a hand in Daniel’s mother’s death? And what about the way she’d dropped me off like a burdensome dog and then cut off all contact with my grandparents, maybe even contributing to my grandfather’s death from a broken heart?
Her life had been tragic, no doubt, but that didn’t give her the right to drag other lives into her darkness. To turn them into actors in her own cruel theater. To make them feel the pain she carried.
If Daniel was expecting any last words, he wouldn’t hear any. They stayed stuck in my throat.
He stepped closer and pulled a letter from the inside pocket of his black suit jacket. My name was written on the front in her handwriting.
Annie.
My real name. The one that still felt foreign, almost like a bad omen.
“She left this for you,” Daniel said quietly. “I assume you’re Annie?”
I nodded and placed the urn gently on the ground so I could take the letter. Turning my back to him, I stepped a few feet away and opened it.
Annie,
When you read this, the waves will have claimed me at last.
I think my fate was sealed many years ago, the day we went out on the boat and the wind suddenly shifted, tossing us and turning the sea rough.
Two women went overboard.
One was thrown a life ring.
And if you’re wondering why he didn’t toss a second life ring to his wife or why the woman he cheated with didn’t share hers, I don’t have an answer for you.
Maybe because I don’t want to know.
Or maybe, deep down, I already do.
Michael wasn’t the one with the fortune. He wasn’t the Winthrop. She was. And in a divorce, he would have lost everything for an obsession with a girl who was barely of legal age.
Still, part of that girl and the woman she became clings to the hope that none of it happened for the worst reasons.
But even if I take most of my dark secrets with me, I can share a different one with you. One that might finally make some things right.
Michael Winthrop was a monster, but when I look at Daniel, I see only his mother’s kindness in his eyes. And in yours, I see your father’s selfless heart.
Use this knowledge to move on.
We all walked through darkness, the three of us. Sometimes together, sometimes alone.
But some lies are worth keeping. Some secrets are worth taking to your grave.
My secrets.
Which are now your secrets. Keep them.
It’s the only way you’ll ever start over. To have a chance at life with the man you love. And the grandmother you’ve surely found by now.
I don’t know if I’ll meet your father here. Or her. Or the monster.
If I do, I’ll tell them all to leave you be.
If you feel anger and hate toward me . . . good. That will hurt less than love.
And remember, don’t ever talk about those things.
Secrets like ours.
Mom
I stared at the letter long after I’d finished reading it. The words burned in my hands like they’d been branded there with a hot cattle iron. Then I let the letter fall into the water, watching as the waves swallowed it whole.
Daniel’s voice broke the silence. “Is everything okay?”
I turned back to him, walked over, and stopped inches away. His face searched mine, and I lifted a hand to his cheek. “You look exhausted. Let’s get some food and rest.”
He closed his eyes at my touch like he’d been starved for it. A single tear escaped, trailing down his face.
I pulled him into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around me, holding me as if letting go wasn’t an option.
“Emily.” His voice was raw against my neck.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’ll take care of you. I promise. Just like I did back then. Just like you did for me.”
He sobbed into me, the sound broken, almost childlike. “Really?” His voice trembled with disbelief.
“Yes.” I stroked his hair, holding him closer. “I’m so sorry for everything, Daniel. I’m here now. I won’t leave you again. I promise.”
He pulled back, wiping his eyes. “No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should never have kept secrets—”
I pressed my finger to his lips. “Let’s not talk about that anymore.”
He nodded slowly.
“You hungry?” I asked.
A faint smile returned to his face. “Starving. I haven’t been eating much lately.”
I laced my fingers with his. “Come on. That restaurant off Route 1 should be open. The one with the horrible lobster but amazing fries.”
“God, I’d pay a million bucks for some good fries right now.”
“Me too. And I can’t wait to tell you everything about my grandma. And my cat, Princess. She waited for me all those years to come back to Grandma’s house. I think they’d love to meet you. Maybe we can plan a trip down there soon.”
“You don’t mind me meeting them?” he asked, his face caught somewhere between gratitude and disbelief.
“Of course not. We’re all family. And Mochi will be thrilled to see you again. He says your name every day.”
Daniel looked like a flower that had been starved of sun but was finally seeing the light again.
“First, though, let’s get some food. I’ll tell you everything on the way.
We also need to talk about other things.
Like hiring Tara again, and what we’ll do with the Breakers between the occasional family vacation.
Maybe there’s a better purpose for it. Maybe something non-profit.
And I want to go back to school to help people.
Become a social worker. I’m sure we can find some good use for the Breakers to help others. ”
Daniel nodded, still smiling.
As we started up the stairs, he stopped and looked at me. “What did she say in the letter? Your mom?”
I froze.
Now was the moment. The moment to tell him. The moment to finally live with no more secrets. I’d hated when he’d kept them from me; was I going to do the same?
“She said—”
His warm brown eyes locked on mine. Amber-brown, the same as his mother’s. Even his smile mirrored hers. I knew this now that I’d seen her face in those pictures.
What would he say if he knew? If he learned that his father had chosen to let my mother live, and my mother had chosen to let his mother drown. For the money. To take her place.
Would he still love me if I told him everything? Would we ever be able to move on from that?
He didn’t seem strong enough to take on more pain. He looked like a man teetering on a cliff, one step from disaster.
I had to protect him. That had always been my role, both when we were kids and now.
Maybe it was unhealthy for us to live this way. Maybe the world would call us sick, enmeshed, unstable. Pathetic, even. Maybe the only “right” thing would be to tell him everything and walk away.
But then, we didn’t owe the world anything.
The world had turned its back on us. It had abandoned us, tormented us, chewed us up, and left us for dead.
No.
We didn’t owe the world a damn thing.
I’d tell him one day. Maybe after Christmas, when he’d had a few months to heal. Or maybe after we had children and joy had carved its place back into our lives.
Once the storm had dragged my past into the open, I’d been able to move on. I felt steady now, grounded. Not a single nightmare had come since the night I’d learned the truth about who I really was.
However, now Daniel was the one who was breaking—and I had to protect him.
“She said,” I repeated softly, smiling, “don’t be sad. That she’s all right. And that we should take care of each other. She said we’re both good people, and we deserve to be happy.”
A sad smile tugged at his lips. Relief flickered in his eyes like a candle. “Thank you, Cynthia,” he murmured.
He turned and walked up the stairs toward the Breakers.
I watched him go, his footsteps steady but slow. My mother’s words echoed in my head. Guilt twisted in my chest.
But even if my mother had lied about everything else in her life, one thing she’d said was true: Daniel and I were nothing like her or Michael.
We could be happy.
Maybe two wrongs could make a right.
For now, I wouldn’t let my mom’s dark secrets destroy that.
Some secrets were better left to drown in the waves than be dragged into the light.
Especially secrets like ours.