The Best Man (Blue Heron #1)(99)

She nodded. Kept nodding. Hadn’t really looked at him since she came in.

“Faith, are you okay? You don’t seem—”

“I didn’t have a seizure. I lied about that. I told my father I did because I didn’t want to tell him the truth.”

The oven ticked as it preheated. “And what was that?” Levi asked.

“I made her crash.”

Those four words seemed to be torn out of the deepest part of her. Her face didn’t change, but her eyes were desolate.

“How’d you do that?” he asked as gently as he knew how.

“I was mad,” she said. “I didn’t want to talk to her, and she turned around, because I was sitting in the back. She asked me if I was okay, and I didn’t answer.” Faith swallowed. “She thought I was about to have a seizure, because I space out before one, as you know. So I let her think that. And then we got hit.” Her face was white, her bloodless hands knotted hard in her lap.

“Faith, you can’t—”

“She wanted to leave my father.”

Ah, shit. “She told you that?”

“Yes.”

That wasn’t how Levi remembered Constance Holland from the few times he’d seen her. She’d seemed to be the Disney Channel’s version of a mom—pretty, happy, wisecracking and capable.

Or maybe he was confusing her with his mom.

“That’s why I didn’t answer her.” Faith’s voice was hollow. “She kept talking about how it’d been a mistake to get married so young, how she always wanted to do more but got stuck with us. I let her think I was about to have a seizure so she’d stop talking. And then we got hit.”

The look on her face was like an iron spike going through his heart. “Faith, you were a kid. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I knew what I was doing. I wanted her to feel guilty.”

“That’s not the same as wanting her to die.”

She flinched. “No. But I’m responsible all the same. When I came back here in September, I thought if I found Dad someone else, maybe I could make up for it. But I haven’t. My dad worships her memory—Jack and my sisters do, too.”

Yeah, that seemed true. “You never told anyone?”

“No! I... When my father came to the hospital, he was so...broken, and I was afraid he’d stop loving me if he knew. So I lied.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I just wanted you to know. I don’t want you to tell me how it wasn’t really my fault. I know what I did.”

He didn’t know what to say to that.

“You can’t say anything,” she said, her voice level now, and somehow that hurt his heart more than ever. “I don’t want them to know how she really felt.”

Levi ran his hand through his hair again. “Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

“I’m gonna go home, actually,” she said. “But thank you.”

“Please stay.”

“No, thanks. I’ll...I’ll see you around.” She stood up, and he did, too, pulling her into a hug. She felt cold and brittle, Faith who was all soft and sweet and warm.

“Stay,” he said one more time.

“I’m fine,” she said. “See you tomorrow, maybe.” And with that, she opened his door and went across to her own apartment.

The quiet of the night settled around him.

Faith’s mother had been dead for twenty years. That was a long time to keep a secret.

The cookies would have to wait. Levi turned off the oven, grabbed his car keys and headed for the police station.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

THE DAY HER MOTHER had died had been utterly normal except that Faith had needed shoes.

Faith had always loved being the baby of the family. In exchange for all the fun things the rest of them had done before she was born or when she was tiny, it seemed only fair that she got special treatment. She knew her family viewed her as vaguely cute but somewhat useless. Mom still never asked her to start supper...only Honor could do that (and had been doing it for years, as her older sister liked to point out). Jack was in college learning how to make wine and already knew cool stuff like how to fix the harvester and clean the thresher. Prudence was a grown-up, married and everything.

So Faith got to be the cute one. Her parents’ attention was spread thin, and Faith used it to get away with stuff...not being a straight-A student, for example, unlike her siblings. Not going to bed on time, because who really noticed? She didn’t have to eat all her vegetables, because with four kids over seventeen years, her parents were a little weary of enforcing the rules.

Her epilepsy got her the kind of attention she didn’t want—the panicky eyes from Dad, the short, sharp orders from Mom. She’d take some benign neglect any day.

But the day she needed shoes would be, she hoped, one of those rare and special times when she and Mom could do something, just the two of them, like those cloudy, lovely memories from when everyone else was in school, and Faith was her mom’s little shadow. Maybe they’d stretch the day out, get some ice cream at the cute place on Market Street.

Instead, Mom had been in a mood. “Don’t think you can try on every pair in the store, Faith,” she said as they pulled into the parking lot. “I have a thousand things to do today. Why you couldn’t have told me you needed these last week, when I had to come to this exact same place when Jack was home...”