Chapter 15: What Lucille Kept

I pulled on Phillip's shirt and went down the steps alone.

"Hallie," he said from the bed. "Wait."

"She came to me."

"I'll be at the window."

The gravel was cold under my bare feet.

Lucille's window slid down when I reached the car.

She had not gotten out.

Her hands were folded on the wheel, and her pearls caught the porch light.

"I was afraid you'd have the door locked," she said.

"I did. I came out anyway."

"Yes." She looked past me at the lit window above. "He looks well. Better than I've seen him look in years."

"What do you want, Mrs. Chichester?"

"To tell you something I should have told you when you were seven."

The wind moved the lavender.

"Twelve years ago Everard and I left a dinner in two cars," she said. "We had quarreled."

"And?"

"He took the highway. I took the back road behind him, because I didn't trust how he walked to the car."

I did not move.

"I came around the curve on Route 44 and saw headlights in the ditch," she said. "A small blue car lay on its side."

"My mother's car."

"Yes." Her voice stayed even. "His car was across the road with the front crushed."

I wrapped my arms around myself.

"Everard was sitting on the pavement with the lighter in his hand," she said. "He was clicking it, and he did not stop when I pulled up."

My stomach turned over.

"I went to the blue car," Lucille said. "A woman was still in the driver's seat, and she was breathing."

The ground tilted under my feet.

"She turned her head and looked at me."

"You told Phillip she died at the scene."

"Everard told Phillip that." A muscle moved in her jaw. "I told Everard to call an ambulance."

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