Discovering (Lily Dale #4)(23)

Her hand trembling on the key, she hits Enter, then waits for the mail files to load.

It doesn’t take long.

Her breath seems deafening in her own ears as she scrolls up through the archives, back to last winter.

She forces herself to reread the first exchange between her mother and Darrin, when they were rediscovering each other after all those years, and making secret plans to meet in Boston.

Then she opens the first contact that came after. The one she couldn’t go on reading the other day.

Darrin (like I told you, I can never call you Tom, no matter what you want me to do, sorry!)— seeing you yesterday was incredible, despite everything. You said you wanted me to think about what you told me, about what happened back then, and I’ve done nothing but that since you left me at the airport. A part of me can’t believe it really even happened, but I know you wouldn’t lie. Yes, you made some mistakes—terrible mistakes— but I understand why you did what you did. You were a kid, and afraid, and you thought you were doing what was best for me, and for you, and for our child.

That was where Calla left off before.

Now, she takes a deep breath and keeps reading.

Do you remember what a nightmare it was, the two of us alone in Leolyn Woods, with me giving birth to a baby no one even knew we were expecting? Sometimes I can’t believe it really happened. I was scared out of my mind. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t think straight. I don’t remember much of it, other than when you told me the baby hadn’t made it.

Calla gasps and covers her mouth with her hand.

The baby hadn’t made it.

Oh, no. Please, no.

She rereads the lines again, and then again, just to be sure.

Her eyes fill with tears for the loss of a sister or brother she had never even known.

And now I never will.

I told you I was devastated, and I really was—but there was a part of me that might have been a tiny bit relieved, too. I’ve never forgiven myself for that. How could I feel that way? How could I be so selfish? Now that I’m a mother, I question that every day of my life. If anything ever happened to my daughter, I wouldn’t want to live. I would give my life for her. Yet there was a time when I was secretly grateful that I wouldn’t have to be a mother.

All I could think was that no one would ever have to know . We could go back to our normal lives. We had managed to hide it all those months, but I knew once the baby came, the whole town would be talking. Now no one would ever even know I had been pregnant.

But we didn’t get back to normal. When you left, Darrin, my life was over. How could you just disappear?

I know you want to tell me all about it. Maybe I should have let you keep talking the other night, but I just couldn’t hear any more. Even now, I look into my heart for a way to forgive you. The only way I can do that is to forgive myself, too, for the relief I felt when you told me our baby had died.

I don’t know if I can forgive myself. I know I can never forget. Even now. Every day, when I lived in Lily Dale, I looked out at that lake and remembered what you had done. I kept picturing you wrapping our dead baby in a blanket and weighing it down with rocks and tossing it into the water. You said you did it to protect me, and I believed that—until you left. Then I felt like you had done it to protect only yourself. I knew I had to leave Lily Dale. I felt like everyone in town knew what had happened, like they were all looking at me.

I have to end this here. My daughter just came home from school. I hear her downstairs. I’ll talk to you soon. I do love you. And I will try to forgive you. Stephanie

Through eyes blurred with tears, Calla reads the e-mail again, and again, and again.

Then she closes the screen.

That’s enough for today.

Maybe it’s enough, period.

Now she knows why her mother left Lily Dale and never looked back.

Now her dream—or memory— of the argument between Mom and Odelia makes sense.

The only way to know for sure is to dredge the lake.

That’s what they were talking about. Dredging the lake to look for the baby’s remains.

Calla shudders.

So.

Her grandmother knew about the baby.

When—and how—did she find out?

Why didn’t she tell Calla? She’s had plenty of opportunities.

Well, she can’t stay silent about it forever.

I won’t let her, Calla thinks, jaw set with grim determination.





NINE

Lily Dale

Tuesday, October 9

7:28 p.m.

“What’s the matter, Calla?”

She looks up from her mashed potatoes— artfully arranged around the edges of her plate, the better to hide the fact that she’s not eating them—to see both her father and grandmother watching her across the kitchen table.

“Nothing,”she lies, and cuts off a tiny chunk of meatloaf with her fork. She pops it into her mouth, chews, and smiles brightly.

See? I’m not quietly freaking out about my dead sibling being dumped into the lake that’s right outside the doorstep.

Obviously not fooled, her grandmother presses a hand to her forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

“I’m not sick, Gammy.”

“You don’t have to have a fever to be sick.”Dad, his face tinted bright pink from his afternoon on the lake, looks concerned. “You haven’t said two words since we sat down.”