“Well, he’s been sweet on me since first grade. You have to admire his loyalty.”
“And how do you feel about him?” It was, Perri realized, the kind of conversation she and Jane might have had if the families had never fallen into their tragedy. The second mom, the trusted friend, giving life advice.
“He’s everything I could want. I am just such a lot to take on. It’s hard to let someone try. Because he might give up.”
“That boy doesn’t have any idea of how to give up in that brain of his. And neither do you. Not a bit.” She touched her shoulder. “If you want to be with him, be with him. Build the life you want, Jane, free of all this mess,” Perri said, nodding toward the truck and Trevor. “You deserve whatever makes you happy, after all this.”
“So do you, Perri.”
She tried to nod. Happiness, maybe, one day. Right now she’d just take being grateful for her memories of David, for being alive. For being free of the blame, of the hate she’d felt.
“Here,” Perri said. “David would have wanted you to have this.” And she handed her a notebook. “It’s where Liv Danger—the good version, the wonderful idea you and David had—lived.” Jane paged through the stories and the drawing. She looked at the back of the notebook. Tayami, the Japanese brand. Where her suicide note, written in fury, had been torn free from. The paper was luxurious and David’s drawings were wonderful.
“Finish it,” Perri said. “Find an artist who can share David’s vision. Write Liv Danger’s story. I think you know about being a hero now.”
Jane closed the notebook. Maybe work could be good, and she could reclaim her and David’s creation from how it had been badly used.
“Perri?”
“Yes?”
“I remember something. A lot more. Not all of it. But…when we found out about all this awfulness that night, it was so much to carry, but…David didn’t know how to tell you. Neither did I. We wanted to get you away from it. From Cal. We wanted to protect you. I remember that.”
The tears welled up in Perri’s eyes. “Oh.”
“David loved you so much. So much.”
Perri wiped the damp from her eyes and took a deep breath, and she took Jane’s hand. Jane glanced up in surprise. “It’s going to be all right. It really will be better. That’s life. It does go on. We have to go on with it. Forward.”
She would never remember the parts of her life she had lost, but she knew who she was now. Who she had been, who she might become. And that would be enough.
“I’ll remember that,” Jane said. “I will.”
Acknowledgments
For their support in writing this book I’d like to thank: Jamie Raab, David Shelley, Lindsey Rose, Ed Wood, Peter Ginsberg, Shirley Stewart, Holly Frederick, Jonathan Lyons, Sarah Perillo, Eliane Benisti, John Q. Smith, Kelly Coulter, Chip Evans, Melissa Greenwell, Matthew Praisner, Todd Praisner, and Steve Basile. As always, deepest thanks to Leslie, Charles, and William for their love and support.
You will not find Lakehaven on a map; nor will you find St. Michael’s University in Austin. You also won’t find “Faceplace” as a widely used social networking site.
Any errors or manipulations of fact for dramatic purposes are all on me.
About the Author
Jeff Abbott is the New York Times bestselling, award-winning author of seventeen novels. His books include the Sam Capra thrillers Adrenaline, The Last Minute, Downfall, Inside Man, and The First Order as well as the stand-alone novels Panic, Fear, Collision, and Trust Me. The Last Minute won an International Thriller Writers Award, and Jeff is also a three-time nominee for the Edgar Award. He lives in Austin, Texas, with his family. You can visit his website at JeffAbbott.com.