He met my gaze reluctantly. “I’m sorry, Anna. At that point, he was desperate to make you leave Les Jumeaux.”
I exhaled, feeling exhausted. “Well? Will you tell the police? About how Noah asked you to help him move her boat that night? You owe it to her, Wes. You owe it to Elizabeth.”
“Yes,” he said, sounding shaky. “I’ll tell them.”
“And about what he confessed, when the three of us were in the tower together? About strangling her?”
He hesitated, but I held his stare. This is your chance, Wes. This is your chance to make your life something other than a lie. Take it.
Finally, he nodded. I’d already called the police, just after we’d arrived at the hospital. Wes wouldn’t have long to wait, before his confession. Not long, to have doubt and his addiction steal up on him, and convince him to change his mind about admitting the truth.
“I won’t tell them about what Noah said about your being addicted to morphine,” I said. “But if you don’t check into rehab, and soon—like tomorrow—I’ll feel obligated to tell the authorities. You realize that, don’t you? I’m thinking of your patients. Like Lorraine. They deserve better.”
His chin trembled at that. We just sat there for a minute or two, both of us caught up in our miserable thoughts, no doubt.
“What about Evan?” Wes asked. “Does he know? That you went to confront Noah?”
I shook my head. “But I’m going to tell him,” I said, flinching slightly at the idea of having to tell him the details of what had happened.
“Anna? Is it true?” Wes asked me uneasily after a pause.
“What?”
“That stuff you and Noah were talking about in the tower, about how you see Elizabeth. About how she talks to you, and that’s how you found her body.”
I sighed and leaned back in the uncomfortable chair.
“No,” I lied gruffly. “I just said those things to get Noah to confess to murder. I knew he was obsessed with the idea that his relatives could communicate to living Madasters. You must realize he was mad.”
“As a hatter,” Wes said, no hesitation in his voice now. “Does Evan know? About your idea to tell Noah that Elizabeth spoke to you?”
“No. But I plan to tell him,” I said, not lying this time. “Wes?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you mind calling Evan?” I was the one who sounded shaky now. My need for Evan was a weakness that was difficult to put on display. “Would you… would you ask him to come here, to the hospital?”
Wes nodded, already digging for his cell phone in his pocket as he stood.
Two Weeks Later
I asked to have the genetic testing redone, so that I could be completely confident of the results. I now knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was not Evan Halifax’s child. I was indeed the product of Elizabeth and Noah Madaster’s incestuous relationship.
It was cold comfort, but a profound relief, nonetheless.
Evan and I were the last two people to remain graveside after the small service. I’d asked Evan two days ago what Elizabeth’s favorite flowers were, and he’d told me white ranunculus. I’d clutched them for the entire ceremony, even after Lorraine, guided by her new caregiver, and Evan had paid their individual tributes.
“Goodbye, Elizabeth,” I said before I unclenched my fist and finally released the flowers. Several white petals sprayed across the polished mahogany of the coffin. That coffin held her body… the proof she’d so wanted found. It was the tangible proof of her hard life, and cruel death.
“She liked them because they seemed pure. Innocent,” I murmured, staring at the flowers.
I felt Evan’s hand at the small of my back.
“She would have loved you.”
“I believe she would have,” I replied, wiping away a tear. “And I also think I would have struggled, at times, to love her back. She was beyond complicated, wasn’t she? Sometimes, I’m glad I never knew her. I’m sure I would have altered my whole world to give her what she needed. Just like you tried to do. Problem is, Elizabeth never knew what she needed.”
“It’s a basic human right that Noah had stolen from her,” Evan said quietly.