over me, blamed me for everything.”
Her mother began to cry again. “But she was right. I was selfish and cruel. And I was punished. I killed my husband and almost killed her.”
Tara, Dylan and Joseph stood in shocked silence, while Tara’s mother sobbed quietly in the chair beside a sleeping Faye. Dylan rubbed Tara’s back in slow circles, reminding her that he’d promised to be whatever she needed.
He’d kept that promise from the moment they’d first talked.
He’d helped her investigate the accident and now she knew the truth—all the truth. The accident happened because of confused ideas about love and loyalty—both in her mother and in Matt Sutherland.
There was one final mystery. “Did you empty Dad’s desk of files?” Tara asked.
“I couldn’t find the genetics report. There were papers about the divorce, I knew. I didn’t know what other terrible item was there, so I shredded it all. It had to be gone. It was all a mistake.” Her mother made a wiping gesture with her hands.
Her mother’s behavior horrified Tara. All her decisions had been aimed at hiding, lying, keeping secrets she shouldn’t have, shredding the truth right and left, culminating in running away from the accident she’d caused.
“Wha... Is... Where...am...?”
Faye’s words were a whispered rasp in the silence. They all turned to stare at her. She blinked, looking startled.
“You’re in the hospital. You were in an accident,” Tara said.
Faye touched her throat.
“You’re thirsty! Right.” Tara grabbed the plastic cup of water Rita had placed there for when Faye awoke.
Faye nodded against the pillow, still blinking, still confused.
With shaking fingers, Tara put the straw between her sister’s lips. When she’d finished, Tara set down the cup. “Welcome back. We missed you. All of us.” Tara nodded toward the people now crowded around the bed—Joseph, their mother, Dylan and Sean, the father Faye had barely learned about.
Would she remember the accident? Did she know her father was dead? Would she remember them?
“Baby.” Joseph dropped to his knees beside the bed and grabbed Faye’s hands, pressing them to his mouth. “Do you know me?”
She nodded slowly, as if just awakened from anesthesia. “Jo...seph.”
“And me?” Tara had to ask. “You recognize me?”
“My...sis...ter.” Her eyes moved over all of them. “Mom...?”
Her mother sucked in a breath, then turned and left the room.
“You...here...all...” Faye said, then her eyelids dropped.
“The neurologist said she would sleep a lot at first,” Tara explained. “It’s hard work to stay awake. We should let Joseph have some time.” She motioned for Sean and Dylan to step out with her.
She didn’t know what she would say to her mother. Her feelings were in turmoil. They found her in the hall, pale as a ghost, frozen outside the room the way she’d been when she’d first arrived. “I can’t face her,” she said to Tara. “Not after what I did. I killed her father and left her to die. She’ll never forgive me. She shouldn’t.”
As angry as she was at her mother, Tara thought of Faye’s words. When you love someone, you forgive them. That’s how Faye lived her life. “Faye loves you, Mom,” she said. “She will forgive you. I know that.”
Her mother’s gaze locked on, digging at Tara, testing the truth of her words. Finally she said, “You don’t lie, do you?”
“No.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“You can face her, Rachel,” Sean said. “You have to.”
Tara’s mother’s gaze shifted to meet Sean’s. Something passed between them, something from the past, something they’d shared, and her mother seemed to gather her composure, stand taller, look certain. Turning her gaze to Tara, her mother spoke solemnly, as if the moment with Sean had given her new strength. “Will you take me to the police station, Tara? I have to turn myself in. I should be punished for what I did. It was unforgivable.”
Tara didn’t know what to say to her mother. Her thoughts were jumbled, her feelings confused, most of them harsh. Then she looked at Dylan. His eyes held compassion and tenderness for Tara.
You know how to love, he’d told her. He said he’d admired her efforts to make peace with her mother. He believed in her. It was time she believed in herself. Tara let her own compassion rise to the surface and override her hurt and anger. Her mother had done a terrible thing, but she was willing to answer for it. Tara was proud of her. And, more than that, she loved her. “Faye will forgive you, Mom. And I forgive you, too.” The words rang in Tara’s ears,