I need to explain, “Ashton told me about that night. What you did for her. And now I completely understand why you have this unbreakable bond. I do. Doesn’t mean I think you’re good for her. But that’s not what this is about.”
“What is this about?” Brendan demands impatiently.
“Why were you there that night? You didn’t give a shit about the party.” I study his eyes, impenetrable stone, then look down at his clenched fist. “Either you were stalking Ashton, or … you knew Morgan would be there.”
Brendan closes his eyes, his jaw tensing “I knew he would be there.”
“Why were you following him?”
“Because of you. I thought he could tell me something that would help me find out more about you. But … once I realized what a piece of shit he was …” He doesn’t finish. His words gnashed between his teeth.
“Doesn’t explain why you’re so obsessed with me. Do you really think I can help you understand why your mother chose to kill herself?”
“Yes!” he yells, impassioned. “I do! Something happened, Lana. Something that ate away at her for pretty much my entire life. And it has to do with your mother. And maybe you. I need to know what that was!”
His anger smothers my own. “Well, my mother’s here tonight,” I offer quietly. “Why don’t you ask her?”
“I’ve already tried.” Brendan runs a hand through his hair. “I wrote your mother a letter right after she died, asking for her help to better understand my mother. What may have been haunting her. But she didn’t respond.”
“She didn’t?” This surprises me.
My mother has never been cruel. Emotionally distant where I was concerned. But never cruel.
Brendan shakes his head. “And not long after, Niall appeared, telling me to let it go. That it was a tragedy and he was sorry. Then he pretty much inserted himself in my life and got me admitted to Blackwood.”
“I’m confused. How would he have known about the letter? And didn’t you already know him?”
“She had to have told him,” he answers with a hint of resentment. “As I told you, I knew his family from Nantucket. Parker and I formed a kind of partnership. And Niall helped me with a few legal issues after my mother died. He was my lawyer. That’s it. But after I sent the letter, he took over my life. It was different.”
“Then why did you bring him to the hospital to see Ashton? You had to have trusted him.”
He turns his back to face the lake, both hands shoved in his pockets. “I did. He’s a good lawyer. He made her story disappear, and I knew he could help protect her. I don’t know what kind of arrangement he has with Blackwood, but it seems to be his go-to school to hide clients from the world.”
“Or hide the world from his clients,” I murmur, thinking of Ashton’s situation. But I have to wonder what else Niall has made go away. And because my mind is reeling, I blurt what was meant to stay in my head, “What else does Niall know?” I lean in and ask quietly, “Did you kill Morgan?”
Brendan slowly turns around, keeping his hands in his pockets so I can’t read if what he’s about to tell me is the truth. “Does it matter?”
I don’t respond for a second, attempting to see past the impenetrable fortress. Where he locks away his truths. But I only find my reflection staring back at me.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Lana!” Grant calls to me.
“Be right there!” I yell back. Then I say calmly to Brendan, “I’ll talk to my mother. Even if she refuses to tell me, there has to be another way. We’ll find out what happened, okay?”
Brendan nods, his hands still in his pockets. His eyes downcast, like he can’t afford for me to see any cracks in his wall, he walks past me toward the path to the house. Right after he disappears, Grant comes into view. He studies me.
“Are you alright?”
I nod.
“They’ve asked us to sit for dinner.”
“Did you talk to Lily?” I ask, taking his hand.
“Not yet.”
“Prepare yourself. She may never speak to either of us again after tonight.”
“Why?” Grant asks like he’s afraid to know.
“Lily’s father—or who she thinks is her father—was dating my mother for about six months. They ended things because we found out he was still married … on the worst day of my life.”
Grant stops to look at me. “Are you serious?”
“Yup,” I breathe out in regret. “This