Chapter 32

I barged into the cabin, rain streaming off my drenched clothes. The door slammed shut behind me with a clap that echoed through the wood-scented space.

"Hello, Diane."

My voice was steady despite the chill that clung to my bones.

Surprise flickered across her features. "Eva Rae? What are you doing here?"

Memories of this place rushed back—the laughter, the warmth, the sense of innocence now tainted by recent events.

"I remembered I came here as a child, with my mom, to visit you." I peeled off my jacket, water pooling on the floorboards. "I called my mother on my way here to ask if you still had the cabin in North Carolina. You did. I figured if I were running from a murder, this would be the place to go."

Will emerged from the shadows behind Diane, his presence like a cold draft seeping into the room. Their eyes met—held—a silent conversation passing between them. Wordless, but I heard it loud and clear.

"Running from a murder?" Diane's attempt at nonchalance came off as strained, her smile too tight.

"Sounds about right," I said, watching them closely.

They shared another glance, fleeting but heavy with unsaid truths. Will opened his mouthandclosed it, a frown creasing his forehead. Diane bit her lip, a move so subtle thatanyone else might have missed it.

I locked eyes with Will, seeing the crack in his facade. They tried to mask their panic with platitudes, but I saw through the charade. They knew that I knew.

"Let's sit down," Diane suggested, gesturing toward the worn sofa with a hand that trembled just slightly. "You must be freezing."

"No, thanks." I stayed where I was, grounded, unyielding. "I prefer to stand."

Diane nodded. "Fair enough. So tell me. How did you find out?"

I stepped closer, my gaze unwavering. "The back patio of Will's house," I began, the words carrying the weight of irrefutable evidence. "It's amazing what you can find when you're not even looking. A letter here, a photo there, and suddenly, everything falls into place. You kept it all out of the digital world. While Angela was looking through your computer and your phone, you had it all hidden in the physical world. Pictures of the two of you together, from trips you went onand dinners you had, weretaken with a Polaroid camera. I found some letters that Diane had written to you and delivered via old-fashioned mail. She made sure they were sent to the clinic, so Angela wouldn't see them. But you left no trail that way, and that was your goal. You tried to burn it all, didn't you? After she was dead, and the police were looking through your house. You wanted to get rid of it. I found it all in your firepit on the back patio. You set it on fire and thought it was all done. But it wasn't all gone. You forgot to check; you got sloppy. I managed to piece it together by what was left."

Diane's face paled, her mask of composure slipping. Will's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing.

"Angela knew, didn't she?" My voice was steady; my accusation pointed like the tip of a blade. "She suspected an affair, but how could she imagine it was with her own mother?"

"Stop this," Diane whispered, her elegant facade crumbling as I laid bare their secret.

"Unbearable, wasn't it, Will?" I pressed on, relentless. "Trapped in a marriage, longing for her," I nodded toward Diane. "So you made a choice. Together."