He Let Me Grieve a Lie, Now He Begs Forgiveness novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The File
Chiara finds a video of her dead family eating lunch, hears the prophecy excuse, watches Gemma's birthday through the villa window, and tells her psychiatrist to erase all of them.
Her family had been dead for three years when Chiara Pellegrino watched them eat lunch.
The video was on her husband's laptop, in a folder marked Private.
Her father passed a bread basket across a patio table.
Her mother laughed at something.
Her little sister licked sauce off her thumb.
The timestamp said last Thursday.
Chiara ran.
She found her husband in his study with her brother, both in dark suits, a contract open between them.
"They're alive," she said. "I just watched them eat."
Her husband, Elio, went still for a moment.
Then his shoulders dropped, and he looked relieved.
"So you saw it," he said.
Her brother stood up. "Sit down, Chiara. We lied to you. We had a reason."
"What reason?"
"Three years ago Mom went to see a psychic. Our little sister, Gemma, booked the appointment as a birthday gift for her."
Chiara stared at him.
"The psychic said you would hurt Gemma out of jealousy," her brother said. "One day you would get her killed on a family trip."
"That's insane."
"We thought so too. Then it started coming true. You pushed Gemma down the stairs."
"I never pushed her."
"After graduation you were the one who wanted the road trip."
His voice stayed flat.
"So we staged the crash. Dad, Mom and Gemma walked away before it burned. We couldn't stand by and watch you destroy this family."
Chiara's knees would not hold her.
She grabbed the edge of the desk.
She had been in that car.
She had stood in a field and watched it burn, certain she had killed them all.
For three years she had swallowed pills with whiskey.
She had kept her head down while reporters shouted at her.
Strangers online had called her a murderer until she agreed with them.
Elio and Luca had signed her into a clinic in California.
The treatment there was brutal, and she never fought it, because she thought she owed it.
She looked at her husband.
Elio crossed the room and pulled her against his chest.
"Easy," he said, low. "Three years of guilt is enough. I'm sure you'll never touch her again."
She did not move.
"I know this is too much. It's Gemma's birthday, and Luca and I are going to her dinner. Take your time."
Luca put a house key on the desk.
"The new house. I sent you the address. Come when you're ready."
Elio patted her back twice and left with him.
Chiara stood alone in the study, looking at the key.
Maybe it was a lie to shock her out of her depression.
Maybe they had made it up to pull her back.
She clung to that.
She took the key and drove to the address.
The villa sat on a hill, every window lit, and laughter spilled across the lawn.
Through the glass wall she saw Gemma in the living room, eyes closed, making a wish over a huge cake.
Chiara's father stood behind her.
Her mother held a camera.
It was true.
Her father's voice carried through the glass. "Elio, did you tell Chiara the truth? Why isn't she here?"
"It's a lot to take in," Elio said. "She probably won't come tonight."
Gemma started to cry.
"Is it because she can't forgive me for lying to her?" she said. "I was so scared. She promised to take me to a music festival, and she left me behind on purpose. I was almost taken."
Chiara's hand went to her mouth.
At that festival, Gemma had begged for a hot dog from the busiest stand.
She had begged Chiara to wait in the long line for it.
When Chiara got back with the hot dog, Gemma was gone.
"And after Mom and Dad finally brought me home," Gemma said, "she pushed me down the stairs."
When they found Gemma, Chiara had cried and run to hug her.
Her fingers had not even touched Gemma's sleeve when Gemma threw herself down the stairs.
Chiara had told them.
She had told her parents, Luca and Elio, over and over.
None of them had ever asked a single question.
"Chiara has no right to hold anything against you," her father said. "She's the one who did those things."
Elio pulled Gemma into his arms.
"Never again," he told her. "I promise."
Her mother and Luca crowded around, murmuring and stroking Gemma's hair.
Nobody looked at the window.
Chiara stood in the dark with tears running down her face and her hand pressed over her mouth, so they would not hear.
She walked down the hill, then ran.
She did not know how far.
When her legs gave out, she stopped by the road and called her psychiatrist.
"Dr. Coombs, I'll take the treatment you suggested."
"Chiara, it's late. Which one do you mean?"
"The memory suppression."
Dr. Coombs was quiet.
"It removes the people you name and the events tied to them. I can't give back what it takes."
"I know."
"Then tell me who goes on the list. Is your husband on it?"
Chiara looked up the hill at the lit windows.
"All of them," she said.
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