Daniel gave a tired nod.
“I will arrange for Elise to receive the box.”
Clara looked at him.
“You know where she is?”
“She works at a school outside Savannah. She teaches music.”
Michael gave a small, disbelieving laugh.
“Music?”
“She says her mother used to sing when she was frightened.”
The three of them stood in the empty ballroom, surrounded by evidence, wilted flowers, and the wreckage of a ceremony that had never begun.
Then Michael looked at Daniel.
“Why did you keep looking after all these years?”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“Because William asked me to. And because I owed Anna more than silence.”
“You were with my father that night?”
“Yes.”
“On the bridge?”
Daniel looked down.
“I arrived after the car went over. Peter had already left. Olivia was there.”
Clara’s breath stopped.
“Olivia was there?”
“She was standing on the riverbank, screaming for help. I thought she was a witness. She gave me a false name and disappeared before the police arrived.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed.
“Did she push Anna?”
“No. Peter did.”
“Then why did she never tell anyone?”
“Because she thought Peter would kill her mother. By the time she understood Anna had survived, she was trapped in the accounts and the lies.”
Clara closed the velvet box.
“Being trapped does not excuse trapping my son.”
“No,” Daniel said. “It does not.”
Outside, rain began tapping against the tall windows. The storm had arrived late, washing the streets clean while the ballroom remained full of things no one could wash away.
