. CHAPTER 3 — The Grave They Tried to Erase
My mother’s grave sat near the back fence where the older stones leaned toward each other like tired witnesses.
The Bellamys had paid for the plot, which was how they justified pretending it belonged to them. But the flowers were always mine. The small ceramic angel beside the stone was mine. The dirt under my fingernails was mine every spring when I cleared away weeds because the cemetery crew forgot the poor section first.
That morning was the anniversary of her death.
I had left the house before sunrise, walking through the service gate with daisies in one hand and my coat pulled tight over my belly. I did not ask permission. I did not think anyone would follow.
I should have known better.
Charlotte arrived ten minutes after I did, stepping from the SUV as if she had been called to remove a stain from a carpet. She brought no flowers. No prayer. Only anger polished into elegance.
“You were told to stay away from this grave,” she said.
I rose halfway, one hand on the stone for balance. “No. You told me to stay away from your family rooms. This is not one of them.”
Her eyes sharpened. “Everything connected to Eleanor is a family matter.”
“My mother had a name.”
“And she had a talent for reaching above her station.” Charlotte’s voice dropped. “Just like you.”
I knew then she knew about the photograph. Maybe she had always known. Maybe every insult, every locked door, every sudden change in my schedule had been part of a plan to keep me tired enough not to ask questions.
“I’m leaving after today,” I said. “I don’t want your house. I don’t want your money. I just want my mother’s things.”
Charlotte laughed softly. “Your mother’s things? You mean the letters? The ring? The little stories she fed you about powerful men and promises?”
My breath caught.
She saw it and smiled. “Oh, Olivia. You really believed her.”
Then she grabbed my wrist.
I pulled back, more from instinct than strength. My knees slipped on the wet grass. Her hand flashed through the fog, and the slap cracked across my face so loudly that birds lifted from the trees.
May you like
For a moment I saw nothing but white.
When the world returned, I was on the ground beside my mother’s stone, my lip bleeding, my baby beneath my shaking hand, and Charlotte standing over me with the calm satisfaction of someone who thought no one important had seen.
