Chapter 7: Where Delilah Was

Rowan had come to the kitchen door.

He stood in the frame with his arms folded, and Delilah flinched when she saw his face.

"Say it again," he said.

Delilah said it again.

Tobias had met her in a parking garage on Tuesday.

He'd paid half in cash and promised the rest after the wedding fell apart.

"He said you'd be embarrassed for a week," she told Rowan. "That's all."

"And you took the money."

"Mom spent my savings on the house. I had nothing." Her chin trembled. "You didn't love me. You never even called me by a nickname."

"I didn't know you," Rowan said.

"Nobody does."

I thought of every time she'd told me to go find a mop.

I did not feel sorry for her.

I did not feel anything but tired.

"He hasn't paid you the rest," I said.

"No."

"That's why you're telling me."

Her eyes slid away, and that was the answer.

"Then say it on the record," I said. "In front of the board. Say Tobias paid you."

"I can't. Mom..."

"Your mother sold my husband a vote that wasn't hers. I don't think she gets to decide anything for you anymore."

Delilah stared at me.

Out front, a car door slammed.

Heels clicked up the walk.

"That's her," Delilah whispered. "Willa, please. I'll do it tomorrow. Let me go."

She grabbed her suitcase and her passport and bolted out the back door into the alley.

I let her go.

Constance came through the front hall a moment later, calling her daughter's name.

She saw me with Rowan in her kitchen, and she stopped.

"You have ten seconds," she said.

"I'm leaving in five," I said, and put my arm through my husband's.

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