It was hard for me to imagine Fallon ever having a hard time at anything.
“She and this Fallon girl got very close.” Julia’s lips pressed against her gritted teeth and I could tell she was fighting not to cry. “Fallon came over once after—after. She brought flowers—Stargazer lilies, Cathy’s favorites. She was very upset. I remember she went up to Cathy’s room and curled up on her bed, crying. Then she fell asleep. I didn’t have the heart to wake her. She was gone the following morning. She left a nice note, though.”
I straightened. “A note? What did it say? Did you keep it?”
Julia nodded and stood, staring at the stacked boxes with her hands on hips. She skirted them all and pulled open a drawer of a curio cabinet.
“I don’t know why I kept it,” she said as she sat back down. “It’s silly, I guess.”
“No, not at all. May I see it?”
She put the folded piece of binder paper—one edge frayed from the spiral binding—into my hand. I unfolded it, my heart pounding, the blood pulsing in my ears. Will slid his chair closer to me; I could feel his shoulder brush mine.
Dear Mrs. Ledwith, I read silently. I am so sorry for all the pain and grief you must be feeling right now. I wish I could bring Cathy back for you—for all of us. I loved her. I wish I could have done more. I should have done more.
The breath that caught in my throat was now sucked out of my body along with all the air in the room. I shot Will a knowing glance, but he was too busy pushing the ice around in his cup to register my silent Aha!
I refolded the note carefully, blinking hard to hold back the tears.
“I don’t think I can tell you much more, unless you want to know about the—the day she was fou—”
“No, no, that’s okay, we don’t need to—”
“Have you packed up Cathy’s room as well?” Will asked, his accent ricocheting around the room—and knocking through my head. I tried to shoot him my most demonic look, but, as usual, he was focused on something else.
“No, Julia, we don’t mean to—”
Julia set down her cup and wrung her hands in her lap. “Actually, I haven’t touched Cathy’s room since—since it happened. I keep telling myself I’ll get around to it.”
“Do you mind if we take a look?” Will wanted to know.
“No, of course not. Top of the stairs. You’ll know the one. I hope you don’t mind if I stay down here.”
I pushed the note into her hands and Will and I trudged up the stairs.
“Did you read that?” I whispered, my lips against Will’s ear.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think we should be looking through Cathy’s room. I think we need to be looking through Fallon’s.”
“Why’s that now?”
“Why?” I gaped. “Were we not reading the same note? ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘I wish I could bring Cathy back’? If those aren’t the words of a guilty conscience, I don’t know what is.”
Will and I stopped on the landing. He looked down at me, the sympathy in his eyes quickly chased out by steadying logic.
“I thought the note sounded very much like a grieving, guilt-ridden survivor.”
“‘I wish I could have done more’? ‘I should have’? That’s not admitting anything?”
“No, love, it’s not. Maybe Fallon wishes she could have done more to help find Cathy. Maybe she wishes she could have done more to help the Ledwiths grieve.”
I let out a whoosh of air, putting my hands on my hips. My eyebrows slammed together in one of those Really? looks. “You really think that’s what Fallon meant? You know her!”
“Not really. And I know even less of who she was a year ago, just after one of her closest mates was found murdered.”
I knew, intellectually, what Will was saying made sense, but I was having a hard time believing it.
“But—”
“But she’s a teenage girl, Sophie. Who you’re accusing of killing her best friend.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not saying she killed her, I’m saying that Fallon may have had more to do with it than you think.”
“And I’m saying she may have had less to do with it than you think.”
“You don’t know teenage girls, Will. You don’t know what they’re like.”
Will took a step back from me, his eyes raking over me in a way that made me feel exposed. “Those are your demons, love. Not hers.”
I stood, silent, dumbfounded, wounded—and not wanting to admit that Will was right.
“Are you two okay up there?” Julia was standing at the base of the stairs, one hand wrapped around the wrought-iron bannister, one foot on the bottom stair. She pressed her toes into the carpet, and I could see the muscle flick in her arm as she seemed to toy with whether or not she would take a step.