“You should have left it alone.”
And there was nothing more.
ADMISSIONS OF GUILT
Yes, I did it. Of course I did it. I’ve done all of it. Did you really have any doubts?
And before you turn away in disgust, you need to understand something.
The cop needed to be taught a lesson, just like Sutton and Ethan needed to be taught a lesson.
She’d been warned and wouldn’t leave it alone.
They didn’t understand the gift they had in their cherubic little boy. Sutton didn’t, for sure, though Ethan might have. But if they weren’t so wrapped up in their own drama, this wouldn’t have happened. If they’d been paying attention at all, this wouldn’t have happened.
They will be so surprised when they figure out it wasn’t negligence on their parts. That I did this to them. That I knew deep in my soul what had to happen.
The boy didn’t feel a thing. I swear that. I am not that much of a monster. I have no desire to cause an innocent pain. No, the pain had to be delivered properly, to the sinners, the parents. It could not be mitigated.
Would you feel better if I told you it was an accident? Enough people die by accident that it’s entirely possible. I know we want to turn aside, look away, find all the ways this couldn’t have been a purposeful act. But let me let you in on a little secret.
It’s always intentional.
Somewhere, deep inside, there is a kernel of hate that each and every one of us must push away. Push down. Pretend it doesn’t exist. We’re all such good people.
Until we’re not.
Until something pushes us over the edge.
And then we act out. Whether it’s taking a life, hurting a loved one, breaking a law, we all do it. No one is perfect. No one is blameless.
I tried to tell Ethan once, to admit what happened, to make him understand it all, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He laughed it off, told me I was drunk and full of it, and to get off his damn lawn.
He actually said that. “Ivy, get off my damn lawn,” in that posh British accent that makes most women cream their jeans, but sounds like nails on a chalkboard to me now.
I am definitely not blameless. If only he’d listened to me, I could have saved him a lot of heartache.
Oh, and I’m back on their lawn now.
Literally.
Are you ready?
Here we go.
BE SHRIVEN
“You have to be kidding me. There’s no way.”
Ethan handed Sutton a cup of tea. She wrinkled her nose and put the mug on the coffee table. Her taste for the tea was altered, her mouth felt tinny and metallic. Her office felt too small for the both of them, but she wanted to be in there, with her books, her things, Dashiell’s small basket hidden in the closet. The world she’d abandoned, gathered around her like a cloak. She might not ever leave again.
“Graham thinks it’s the most likely scenario. Ivy is your daughter.”
“But she’s not the right age. She doesn’t look anything like me.”
“She’s younger than you think. Graham found a birth certificate at her house. She was born January 16, 1992. She’s only just turned twenty-five, though she’s been posing as someone much older. She was adopted out of the judicial system just after birth. The biological mother’s name isn’t readable on the certificate, but Graham was able to trace the date, time, and hospital to your record. It all fits, Sutton.”
The day was right. Dear God, the day was right.
“You went to jail...?” he prompted.
“For assaulting my stepfather.”
“He was the father? Oh, Sutton.”
“No, he wasn’t. I tried to pass him off as the father, tried to convince the police he’d been screwing with me, so they wouldn’t charge me. But it wasn’t true, and they didn’t buy it, anyway. I don’t know who the father is. I was semi-dating an older boy, and he invited me to a party. I knew I was going to sleep with him, I so desperately wanted to grow up, to be liked, to be the cool girl. He had a slightly different plan for the night. He and his friends got me drunk and high, and he and I had sex, but then a few of his friends came in the room. I don’t remember all of it. I don’t want to remember all of it. I felt like such an idiot afterward, that I do remember. Taught me quite the lesson. I straightened up after that, started getting myself together, but then found out I was pregnant.”
She looked at him then, tears in her eyes. “You understand now, don’t you, why I didn’t ever want to have a child? I was thirteen. All I wanted was to have an abortion and forget the whole thing. I was taking the money for my appointment when my stepfather caught me, and we had a huge fight. It got physical. I was just so angry at him.
“I was arrested for theft and assault. Joe and Siobhan wouldn’t sign the papers to let me have an abortion, so I was forced to have the baby. I hated it. I hated every second of being pregnant, of the situation, of being in juvie. It was humiliating, and frightening, and I just wanted to have that one piece of myself be sacred again.”
“And I took it from you.”
She squeezed his hand tighter. “Yes, you did. And for a long time, I hated you for it. But I swear to you, I loved Dashiell with every fiber of my being. When I thought you’d hurt him...it unhinged me. And now, to think that it was Ivy all along, that she could be mine from so long ago...”
“It’s insane. And if it’s true, then she’s insane.”
“There has to be something more. To tear apart our lives in retribution because I had to give her up? It’s not like I had a choice. I was thirteen and in juvie. They didn’t exactly give me options. And my mother...”
“What about her?”
“She threatened to tell you. Threatened to ruin everything. To tell you that I’m a criminal, that I was in jail. That’s why I pay her an allowance. So she stays quiet and lets me have my life with you.”
Ethan closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could trust me with your story, Sutton. I will never forgive myself. And we will never, ever allow Siobhan in our home again.”
“Thank you. I hate her. Hate the twisted, awful world she’s forced me to live in. I feel like such a fool. My mother, Ivy... I’ve let them both manipulate me.”
“Never again. I swear. And, Sutton, listen to me. Being manipulated by Ivy doesn’t make you bad or weak. She’s a sociopath, a very troubled woman. Graham’s still piecing together the whole picture, but everything the bloke Tomkins is saying has checked out. And according to him, Ivy has been in and out of hospitals and rehabs. Severe borderline personality disorder, supposedly. Like—”
“It’s okay. I know what you were going to say. Like me. Like the character in your book. A situation you misinterpreted. Those doctors, they were wrong. I just have a run-of-the-mill anxiety disorder, which, under the circumstances, no one could blame me for. I’ve done the research. I don’t have any of the issues they claimed I did. All the meds... I don’t need them.”