Stop scaring us. Corinne thought of Will’s large frame. His sharp tongue from the other night. The broken plate. Any man would be furious about such a huge secret being kept from him for so long. Any man might get a little scary, a little out of his head. What if Will scared people other than Sadie? What if he’d scared the messenger?
Corinne shakily pulled out her phone to call the cab back to get her away from this place. She clutched the phone with both hands. Horrific images of what might have happened panned quickly through her mind, and she felt tears come to her eyes. “What if someone catches you?” Poppy had said. “I’ll be blamed too, Corinne.”
Perhaps Poppy had been.
The guilt she suddenly felt was overpowering. If Corinne hadn’t asked Poppy to cover for her, if she hadn’t made the mistake in the first place, her cousin wouldn’t be dead now. Corinne studied the phone, then opened up a new text and began to type to Will, her heart in her throat.
I’m going through with the wedding. Good-bye.
23
The next night Aster’s parents’ live-in housekeeper, Livia, let her into the town house for dinner. “She’ll be out in a moment, dear,” Livia murmured before returning to the kitchen.
Aster’s stomach felt jittery as she paced around the front parlor. Paintings of generations of Saybrooks stared down at her. In the corner was Edith; the artist had perfectly captured her disgruntled smirk. Next to her was Alfred, large hands folded at his breastbone. Aster felt a pang of sadness at the thought of her grandpa; she missed him. And in the center of the wall was a family painting they’d all sat for, her dad’s siblings and their spouses lined up along the porch, all the cousins sitting on the lawn at Meriweather. Aster stared at each face one by one, her gaze finally landing on her father’s. Mason stood at the back, his hand on Edith’s shoulder, a smug smile on his face.
She could hear Elizabeth’s voice. I think it’s an inside job. As in, inside the family. And then . . . Go ask your father.
Why would she say that? What did Mason have against Poppy?
“Aster?”
Aster jumped and looked up. Danielle Gilchrist stood in the doorway, dressed in a cherry-red sheath dress and carrying a large yellow clutch. Her red hair spilled down her back, and she had a pair of Aviator sunglasses propped on her forehead.
“What are you doing here?” Aster snapped.
Danielle smiled sheepishly. “Your mom invited me.”
“Yes, I did!” Penelope crowed, appearing from down the hall. “Welcome, Danielle!” She leaned in and kissed Danielle’s cheeks, then looked at Aster. “I ran into her at Pilates. We have the same instructor.” She glided across the room and adjusted a few flowers in the oversize vase in the middle of the table. “Anyway, I told Danielle she had to come to dinner so we could catch up.”
A sour feeling filled Aster’s mouth. Catch up? Her mother had been so wary of Danielle when the girls were younger. “She’s a bad influence on Aster,” she overheard Penelope say to Mason once. But now that Danielle worked for Saybrook’s, now that she owned a pair of Louboutins and a Chanel handbag—and how had she paid for those things? Aster wondered. Certainly not on her HR salary—now she was acceptable?
Aster clenched her fists. It shocked her that Penelope had never figured out what happened all those years ago. She’d been so blind; Danielle was right there.
For a moment Aster thought of leaving, anger warring with the desire to figure out the truth about her father and Poppy. Sighing, she slumped into the dining room and fell into a chair. Let’s get this over with, she thought. Then she noticed that there were only four place settings at the table. Edith was already sitting at one of them, and the spot Poppy used to occupy was deliberately empty. Aster looked away.
“Dad isn’t here tonight?” she asked.
Penelope shook her head. “He has a meeting.”
Aster nodded. Maybe that was for the best. The last thing she wanted was to see Mason and Danielle in the room together. “What about Corinne?” she asked, suddenly yearning for her big sister. She’d tried calling Corinne earlier today to tell her about what happened at Elizabeth’s, but she’d gotten no answer.
“I haven’t heard from Corinne all day.” Penelope sat down and poured herself a glass of wine. “I imagine she’s busy with final wedding prep.”
“One more week,” Edith chimed in.
“You must be so excited!” Danielle exclaimed.
Aster twisted a cloth napkin in her hands, trying not to roll her eyes. Like you care about my family at all, she thought bitterly. Her phone chimed, and she glanced at it, grateful for the distraction. Guess I won’t see you at Boom Boom tonight? Clarissa had texted. Nigel is here, btw. Just so you know.
Aster almost laughed. She couldn’t care less who Nigel dated; she’d honestly forgotten he existed. She hadn’t thought of him once since he left her apartment the morning Poppy died. It’s funny, she mused, sliding her phone back into her bag without replying. That whole scene felt worlds away.