Never Let You Go(82)

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Maybe protective is the wrong word. It was more possessive, you know?”

“Hmm. I can see why that might make you nervous.”

I grip the handle on my mug as I gather my thoughts. “Maybe I’m being paranoid because I’m worried she’ll fall into the same kind of relationship I had with Andrew. Or I’m worried about how she’s handling Andrew’s death and I’m fixating on this instead.”

“Good diagnosis,” he says. “But it’s okay to listen to your instincts about Jared. They might be trying to tell you something.”

I look up and meet his eyes. “He was watching my car drive away. He didn’t look at the school, or the other kids, or even Sophie. He was watching me.”

Marcus frowns. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“He calls me by my first name, and he has this aura about him … I can’t describe it, but it’s almost too confident, bordering on arrogant.”

“You said his parents are wealthy, right? Do they work a lot?”

“The father, definitely. They leave him on his own all the time.”

“He’s probably been treated as an adult most of his life.”

“Maybe. I just don’t like the hold he seems to have over Sophie. She doesn’t spend much time with Delaney anymore. It’s all Jared.”

“I think that’s normal for a teenaged girl. Katie had a few boyfriends in high school and she would obsess about them.”

“Was it different, though, when she met … him?” Marcus has never told me his daughter’s murderer’s name. He won’t say it out loud.

He stares down into his coffee, his expression reflective. “I wish I could say I noticed, but we didn’t speak as much after she moved out and started university. I was busy with my practice and she had her studies. I don’t really know what happened between them.”

“I just don’t want Sophie to lose herself, and it would be easy for her to cling to Jared right now because of everything that’s happened with her father.”

“Why don’t you talk to her?”

I mull it over for a few seconds. “If it sounds like I don’t approve of Jared, I know she’ll pull away from me. She needs to feel like I’m on her side—especially right now.”

“But she also needs to know you care.”

I think about what he said, tap my fingernail against the rim of my cup. “I know things are getting serious between them. Maybe I’ll talk to her and see if I can find out how serious.” It might also be a way for me to find out more about how she’s coping with everything. I’d suggested we could find her a grief counselor—we could even go together if she wanted—but she shut down that idea with an eye roll and a snarky comment: “You can’t afford it.”

“Good idea. You don’t want to regret keeping your fears to yourself.”

We meet eyes. “You have regrets?”

“More than I can count.” He looks around the room, gestures to all the people, smiles at a child. “But this is life,” he says. “This moment now. Sometimes all you can do is breathe.” He meets my eyes, nudges my mug toward me. “Drink up. It’s getting cold.”



Sophie’s picking at her salad while she surfs Facebook with her other hand. She catches my look and pushes her phone to the side. “Sorry.”

Marcus is in his office, working on his book. He often retreats after dinner, but I suspect it’s to give Sophie and me some space. I’ve been thinking for two days about how to talk to Sophie about Jared, but there haven’t been many opportunities. She comes home from school and goes straight into her room for hours. She emerges for dinner, then disappears again. I can hear her talking on the phone late into the night. She knows her father’s death is still under investigation, but I haven’t told her that they think his death is suspicious—and that I’m probably their prime suspect. That’s the last thing I want her to worry about.

It’s been weeks since she’s taken one of her early morning walks, and I haven’t noticed her painting or drawing since we came back from Vancouver. It’s as though the light has been turned off in my beautiful, colorful daughter.

She frowns. “Why are you staring at me?”

“We haven’t talked much lately. I was wondering how you’re feeling. Please tell me how to help you. I’m so sorry you are having to deal with this.”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“I hear you on your phone at night.”

“You’re eavesdropping? That’s kind of rude.”

I’m surprised by her tone, the anger in her face. “That’s rude. I don’t hear what you’re saying, just that you’re up late. I assume you’re talking to Jared?”

“Yeah.” Her expression is guarded now, suspicious. She knows I’m going somewhere with these questions and is already bracing herself. I might as well get to the point.

“How serious are you two? I mean, should we talk about you going on the birth control pill?” Then I realize she might already be on it.

She drops her fork onto her plate with a clatter. “You’re not serious?”