CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

C HAPTER T HIRTY -S IX

It was late February, not yet spring, and Shannon was walking to Dianne’s when she stopped to take a good long look around the neighborhood. She’d never been happier. Even Trey had come around and thought of their neighbors as family. From where she stood, she could see Chloe’s house. She would never refer to Chloe as “Mom” or “Mother,” but inwardly, in her heart, that’s how she thought of her. Not only as her best friend but also as her mom, the woman who had birthed her.

She and Chloe saw each other every day. They walked Carlin, the cute little Frenchie who was fond of nipping strangers. Shannon and Chloe went to hot yoga together and baked and spent time with the kids. Mostly, they talked about everything, details about their lives, the positives and the negatives, catching up on all the lost years.

Standing outside Dianne’s house, she was about to go inside and help with the posters Holly needed for the yearly nonperishable food drive. Her gaze fell on Rosella’s beautiful home. Everything Rosella had owned had been removed from the house months ago. Her house was tall and regal, exuding an air of vigilant guardianship over all the other homes. Even so, she had not won the competition. The Best House on the Block award had gone to Mr. and Mrs. Knightley. The winner had been announced a few days after Rosella’s funeral. Chloe said she didn’t care about winning or losing. She even admitted to submitting her home for consideration simply to goad Rosella. Every time Shannon walked past Rosella’s house and noticed the enormous windows on the top floor, she saw in her mind’s eye Rosella standing there, peering through binoculars.

The arched door of the blue cottage with the diamond-shaped glass in the windows came open. Dianne waved. “Come on in,” she said. “Get out of the cold.”

Shannon made her way inside. The kids were in school. Jason was at work. It was quiet. Peaceful. They hugged. Dianne guided her to the kitchen and poured her a cup of coffee. After a bit of small talk, they refilled their cups and went to the dining room table, where Dianne had laid out paper and pens. It wasn’t until Shannon took a seat and set her coffee on the coaster that she noticed the poster Dianne had already made. Huge, capitalized letters. Red letters. Next to the poster was a pack of seven acrylic paint pens, minus the red marker resting near the poster. The marker used was the same color and texture as the one utilized to write I know what you did —the note Rosella had received in her mailbox.

Dianne must have noticed the surprise on Shannon’s face because she kept looking from Shannon to the poster to the red marker. “You saw the note?” she finally asked, appearing deflated.

“Yes. Rosella showed it to me. Did you write it?”

“I did.” She straightened her spine, as if to show defiance. As if she had no regrets. “I did it because I knew Rosella had been watching everyone in the neighborhood. Jason and I saw her on multiple occasions with those binoculars held up to her eyes while she stared out her office window. I was tired of her spying and judging every one of us. I strongly suspected her of killing Lance. I decided to show her what it felt like to be watched, and to let her know someone out there knew she had secrets, too.”

Something else dawned on Shannon. “I have a question.”

Dianne waited.

“You confessed to being the person who tried to break into Rosella’s basement, so were you also the one watching her from afar?”

“No. That was Becky. She was pissed off about the complaints Holly was getting at the hospital. She and I talked about it. I told Becky I was going to leave a note for Rosella in hopes of giving her a taste of her own medicine. Becky wanted to help, so she started dressing in all black and watching Rosella whenever she would see her standing at the window. Neither of us are proud of what we did. Rosella went out of her way to make our lives miserable, and we wanted to return the favor.” Dianne shook her head. “I’d never encountered anyone like Rosella Marlow before.”

Shannon was stunned. Nearly everyone in the neighborhood, it seemed, had had a hand in trying to make Rosella uncomfortable. Rosella hadn’t been paranoid after all. “Chloe told me it was you who reported Rosella to the director at Sutter Hospital.”

“Yes. Twice. During Lance’s stay and after he passed away. Lance was in a coma when they brought him to the hospital. By the third day, they took him off life support.” She reached across the table and grabbed hold of Shannon’s arm. “Because he was getting better every day. I wasn’t the only one who saw his eyes twitch. I knew it was only a matter of time before he woke up. We all knew. Lance Marlow’s attending physician was thrilled to give Rosella the good news. And after the doctor left the room, guess what she did? She leaned low and whispered into her husband’s ear, told him he killed their son and didn’t deserve to live. The next day, when I returned from lunch, I saw Rosella exit the hospital and head for the parking lot. When I walked out of the elevator and heard the alarms going off, I knew. Before I even walked into Lance Marlow’s room, I knew he was dead.”

“Why didn’t the hospital inform the police?”

“I’m not sure,” Dianne said, “but I do know that Rosella contributed significant funds to the hospital. If I want to keep my job, it’s best I leave it at that.”

Shannon didn’t know what to say, except, “I’m sorry, Dianne, for everything you and Jason have been put through. I’m sorry for everybody on the block, including Lance Marlow. And I’m sorry for Rosella, too. After her son died it seems she snapped and lost all sense of reality.”

Dianne nodded, her eyes downcast. “Rosella did pay the ultimate price for her actions.”

Silence hung between them before Dianne asked, “Did you hear the news yesterday?”

“What news?”

“The judge ruled in favor of Archer staying with Kaylynn. She can start the adoption process.”

“That’s wonderful.” It was a miracle. Truly a miracle, because Shannon and Chloe knew something no one else did. When they were inside Rosella’s bedroom, before Nicolas fell and hit his head on the mantel, Kaylynn had said, “It’s over, Nicolas. I told you to take him back home. I begged you. But you wouldn’t listen.”

Kaylynn had known exactly what her husband had done.

But no one needed to know. There was no family to return Archer to. Kaylynn loved her son more than anything. She was a good mother, and Chloe and Shannon never talked about what they had overheard. They didn’t need to, because like many mothers and daughters, whether biological or adopted, they were linked by the strongest bond of all.