Such a Quiet Place: A Novel(84)

When I saw that post, I’d barely remembered it. But I started to imagine the motives behind the comments. The meaning within the questions. Margo asking, What if we find something else? And Chase telling her: Don’t. Javier, Tina, Charlotte, and Chase, each of them doubling down on Ruby. And I wasn’t sure why.

“I thought it would get the case looked at again. Get her an appeal, if there was something to it,” I said. “So we could all be sure. I didn’t know it would take everything back to square one. I didn’t know it would get her out.”

There were times when I held tight to her innocence. There were times later, like after I’d found the keys buried in my yard, when I believed she was guilty.

And now Blair Bowman was in my house, talking about closure, like that was possible. I was responsible for Ruby’s release—not sure, at the time, if she was innocent or guilty. I’d felt responsible for her: for what she did and what was done to her.

“Do you think it was worth it?” I asked Blair now. Ruby had been set free, but she was killed because of it. If it was justice we were after, I didn’t think we had achieved it.

Blair didn’t answer, looking around the house again. “I told her not to come back here,” she said. Like she was trying to excuse herself, too, for all that had come after. Like she felt some of that same guilt. “I told her not to see you. She promised me she wouldn’t.”

I stared back at her as the realization hit me. “She knew it was me?”

“Of course. She saw that email and she knew right away.”

Goose bumps rose on the back of my neck as I remembered those last words—the ones she’d allegedly spoken to Mac at the edge of the lake. Can you believe it? Harper, of all people.

“She never said anything,” I said. How many things would be different if she had said it? If she had asked? If we had talked about all the steps that had gotten us to where we were?

“I guess she wasn’t sure of your motivations.”

I looked to the clock. I had to finish packing, had to hit the road soon, if I wanted to make it before dark. “I’ve got to get moving,” I told her, leading her back to the front door.

“Some advice, Harper?” she said as she stepped outside.

“Shoot.”

“If you don’t want someone else to dig it up, delete the account. Make sure nothing’s on your computer. Pretend it never existed. If someone else comes by? Pretend you’re not home.”

And then she started walking away, down the steps, back to her car.

“Don’t worry,” I called after her. “I know how to stay quiet.”

She gave me a quick, uncertain look over her shoulder as she opened her car door.

Like she had forgotten, already, what great pretenders we all were here.

The things we had feared—and the things we had become.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


THANK YOU TO EVERYONE who helped guide this book from the spark of an idea to the finished product.

My agent, Sarah Davies, whose wisdom and guidance I have relied on at every stage of the process, for each and every book. Thank you for believing in these stories.

My brilliant editor, Marysue Rucci, for the sharp insight, feedback, and support, from initial idea to the very last draft. And to the entire dream team at Simon & Schuster, including Richard Rhorer, Hana Park, Elizabeth Breeden, Maggie Southard Gladstone, Kassandra Rhoads, Jackie Seow, Marie Florio, Laura Wise, and so many others who have had a hand in bringing this book into the world. I’m very grateful to you all!

Thank you to Elle Cosimano, Ashley Elston, Megan Shepherd, Beth Revis, and Carrie Ryan for the brainstorming sessions, the early reads, the encouragement along the way, and the friendship.

As always, thank you to my family for everything.

And lastly, to all the readers. Thank you.