Chapter 15 - THE LOWEST WATER
Police told Leah not to go.
Evelyn told Leah not to go.
Mara told Leah not to go.
Nathan said nothing.
Leah looked at him.
“You think I should.”
“No.”
“But?”
He stared at Doreen’s photograph.
“She chose the river for a reason.”
“Yes.”
“She wants you.”
“Yes.”
“Which means she may talk if she believes she still controls the conversation.”
Mara turned on him.
“That is exactly how people get hurt.”
Leah looked at Noah.
He slept peacefully in Mara’s arms.
For days, every decision had revolved around protecting him.
That would not change now.
“I’m not going alone.”
Police prepared a controlled operation.
Leah would wear a wire.
Officers would remain nearby.
Noah would stay with Mara.
Nathan would not attend.
That was Leah’s condition.
Doreen had spent too long using him as a lever.
At sunset, Leah reached the river.
The sycamore stood exactly where Mae remembered.
Water moved slowly beneath the fading light.
Leah thought about her dream.
Nathan holding the baby.
Doreen beneath a white umbrella.
Water surging.
No one moving.
Now Leah understood.
The dream had never predicted the future.
It had expressed a truth she already felt.
Nathan would freeze.
Doreen would watch.
Leah would have to move.
A white umbrella appeared between the trees.
Doreen stepped onto the riverbank.
She wore a gray coat.
No weapon visible.
Leah stopped twenty feet away.
“Where’s the umbrella from?”
Doreen smiled.
“Nathan told me about your little dream.”
“I know.”
“You always were dramatic.”
Leah almost laughed.
“You kidnapped my child.”
“Catherine did.”
“At your order.”
“She misunderstood.”
“Of course.”
Doreen looked older.
Not weak.
But exposed.
For the first time, there were no pearls.
No hospital board.
No son standing beside her.
No doctor.
No attorney.
Just a woman beside a river.
“You ruined my family,” Doreen said.
Leah stared.
“You did that.”
“No.”
“You came in.”
“You questioned everything.”
“You turned Nathan.”
“You reopened Caroline.”
“You dragged dead people into daylight.”
Leah’s voice remained calm.
“They were never dead.”
Doreen’s eyes hardened.
“Some things should stay buried.”
“Like Claire?”
Doreen looked toward the water.
“I did not kill Claire.”
“Did Michael?”
“Yes.”
The word landed quietly.
Police listening through Leah’s wire now had it.
A direct admission of knowledge.
“Why?”
“She threatened to expose him.”
“And you?”
“I told him to handle it.”
Leah stopped.
Doreen’s face changed slightly.
She realized what she had said.
“You ordered it.”
“I said handle it.”
“What did you think that meant?”
“I thought he would frighten her.”
Leah heard Catherine’s words in reverse.
Everyone in this family thought someone else would only frighten the target.
Then people died.
“What about Robert?”
Doreen’s face became cold.
“He betrayed me.”
“Did you poison him?”
“He humiliated me.”
“Did you poison him?”
“He was going to take everything.”
“Did you?”
Doreen looked directly at Leah.
“Yes.”
Leah felt no triumph.
Only horror.
“Why?”
“Because men always think leaving is something they decide alone.”
Leah’s stomach turned.
“So you killed him.”
“I stopped him from destroying my children.”
“You destroyed your children.”
Doreen’s eyes flashed.
“I gave them everything.”
“You stole Caroline’s daughter.”
“She was nineteen.”
“You lied about Julia.”
“She was sick.”
“You controlled Nathan with fear.”
“He was weak.”
“You took Noah.”
“I was protecting the trust.”
“No.”
Leah stepped closer.
“You were protecting yourself.”
Doreen’s face changed.
For the first time, Leah had reached the center.
Not family.
Not legacy.
Not children.
Doreen.
Always Doreen.
“What is the last truth?” Leah asked.
Doreen smiled again.
“You still think Noah is safe.”
Leah’s blood went cold.
Mara had him.
Police.
Security.
Safe hotel.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Then what?”
Doreen tilted her head.
“Ask your sister who called her this afternoon.”
Leah’s heart hammered.
Her earpiece crackled.
An officer whispered.
“Leah, hold position.”
She ignored it.
“What did you do?”
Doreen laughed.
“I don’t need to do anything anymore.”
“The people you trust are already breaking.”
Leah stepped closer.
“Who called Mara?”
Doreen looked at the water.
“Your mother.”
Leah froze.
“My mother is dead.”
Doreen smiled.
“No.”
The river seemed to stop.
Leah stared at her.
“My mother died eight years ago.”
“Cancer.”
“You buried her.”
“Yes.”
Doreen’s smile widened.
“Did you identify her?”
Leah’s entire body went numb.
“No.”
It had been a closed casket.
Her mother’s illness had changed her appearance.
Hospital complications.
Leah had been twenty-six.
Mara handled most arrangements.
“No.”
Doreen watched her.
“There it is.”
“The same word Nathan uses.”
Leah’s breathing changed.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
Police moved closer.
Doreen reached into her coat.
Officers shouted.
“Hands where we can see them.”
Doreen froze.
Then slowly removed a photograph.
She dropped it onto the ground.
Police rushed her.
She did not resist.
Leah picked up the photograph.
Two women stood outside a house.
Doreen.
And Leah’s mother.
The date stamp was three years after Leah believed her mother had died.
Leah stared.
Her mother was alive.
Or had been.
Police handcuffed Doreen.
She looked over her shoulder.
“You wanted the last truth.”
“That isn’t the last one.”
Leah ran toward the officers.
“Where is she?”
Doreen smiled.
“Ask Mara.”
Leah called her sister.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Panic hit.
Police contacted the hotel.
Mara and Noah were gone.
Leah stopped breathing.
“No.”
Officers searched.
The room showed no struggle.
No forced entry.
Mara’s phone remained on the nightstand.
Noah’s diaper bag was missing.
So were Mara’s keys.
She had left willingly.
Leah looked at Doreen.
“What did you do?”
Doreen said nothing.
Leah grabbed the photograph.
On the back was an address.
A small town in Kentucky.
Below it, in handwriting Leah recognized instantly, were four words.
LEAH, PLEASE FORGIVE ME.
Her mother’s handwriting.
Leah’s knees nearly gave out.
Doreen had been arrested.
The trust was frozen.
Noah had been recovered once.
Yet now he was gone again.
May you like
This time with Mara.
And for the first time, Leah did not know whether her own sister was saving him or betraying her.
