The Last Mrs. Parrish

Sixty-Six

Amber left the apartment on East Sixty-Second Street carrying a small suitcase, her credit card, and a wad of money. Jackson had called earlier to let her know he’d be there by nine in the evening, and she was going to make sure he walked into an empty apartment. She was tired of this waiting game. One day he was going to tell Daphne, and the next day he had an excuse for why he couldn’t. She wasn’t going to take it any longer. This was showdown time.

She’d booked a room at a small hotel under a different name. The note she left said simply:

At ten past nine her cell phone began ringing. She ignored it. In a few minutes it rang again, and once more she refused to answer. This continued for twenty minutes, and then he left a message. Amber, please. Don’t do anything foolish. I love you. Please call me.

Amber heard the pleading and panic in his voice, smiled, and turned off her ringer. Let him call all night and wonder where she was and what she’d done. She turned on the TV and laid down on the bed. This would be a long, boring night, but the time had come for a drastic move on her part. I’m not going to be the patsy again, she thought, and fell into a fitful sleep.

She’d gotten up several times through the night to go to the bathroom, and each time she checked her phone. Call after call from Jackson, and messages and texts that alternated between begging and fury. The last time she got up was four in the morning, and finally she slept uninterrupted until eight o’clock. She got up and called room service. Decaffeinated tea and yogurt were delivered twenty minutes later, along with the morning paper. She scanned the pages with little interest, and then she waited. And waited. And waited.

At two in the afternoon she punched in Jackson’s number. He answered before the first ring was complete. “Amber! Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you since last night.”

She whispered into the phone with a quivery voice. “I’m sorry, Jackson. I love you, but you forced me.” She let out a quiet sob to emphasize her pitifulness.

“What are you talking about? What have you done?”

“I have an appointment in an hour, Jackson. I’m sorry. I love you.” And she hung up.

Let him stew with that for a while, she thought. Her phone rang again, and this time she picked it up on the fifth ring.

“What?” she said.

“Amber, listen to me. Don’t do this. I love you. I love our son. I want to marry you. I will marry you. I’ll tell Daphne tonight. Please. Believe me.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Jackson.” She made her voice sound weak and tired.

“Amber, you can’t go through with this. You’re carrying my son. I won’t lose my son.” He sounded furious.

“You’ve forced me to do it, Jackson. It’s your fault.” She heard him sigh, and then his tone changed.

“No, no. I know I’ve been dragging my feet, but it’s all for us. I was waiting for the right time.”

“That’s just it. It seems like the right time is never going to come. I can’t wait forever, Jackson. And neither can this appointment.”

“You would actually kill our child? I can’t believe that. Our beautiful little boy?”

“I can’t have this baby by myself and unmarried. Maybe you think it’s all right, but I wasn’t raised that way.”

“I promise you we’ll be married before he’s born. I promise. But come back to me, Amber. Where are you? I’ll come get you now.”

“I don’t know—”

Jackson cut her off. “We’ll go back to my apartment. You can stay there. Forever. Please.”

Her lips curled into a catlike smile.

Jackson was there within the hour. She got into the back of the limo and gave him what she hoped was a pitiful look. His lips were white, and his face was set in a scowl.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

“Jackson, I—”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight. “How could you threaten to kill our child? To hold him hostage.”

“You’re hurting me.”

He dropped her hand. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to my son. Or to you.”

There was something in his manner and voice that unnerved her, but she shrugged it off. Of course he was angry. Worried. He wasn’t acting like himself.

“I won’t, Jackson. I promise.”

“Good.”

They went back to the apartment, and she coaxed him into bed. They stayed there until dark, Amber begging him for forgiveness while trying to ensure that their plans were still on track.

“Are you hungry?” she asked him.

“Starving. How about an omelet?” Jackson said, throwing the covers back and bouncing out of bed. Amber followed him to the kitchen, and he began to crack eggs into a bowl. Now is the time to get down to it, she thought. Before he changes his mind.

“I’ve been thinking, Jackson. You’re not going to move out of the house, are you? It was yours before you married her.”

Amber had wanted that house from the first day she saw it. She wanted to be the mistress of the house, have Bella and Tallulah have to listen to her. They would be guests in her house now, and Bella would feel the sting of her hand if she continued with her shenanigans. The first thing she was going to do would be to have a portrait of herself done — one of those full nudes while she was pregnant. She’d hang it in a place where they’d have to see it every time they came to visit. She’d make it so miserable for them that they wouldn’t want to come for weekends, and she’d make sure that Jackson didn’t care either. In time, she would make him see that they were little bloodsuckers, just like their mother.

“I can’t very well kick her out when I’m the one leaving the marriage,” he said, flipping the eggs over.

“I suppose you’re right. But… she hates that house. She’s told me how pretentious she thinks it is. I really don’t think she deserves it. She’ll probably move her mother in with them. Do you really want that beautiful house to belong to her? Will she even keep it up?”

She could see his wheels turning.

“Well, I did have it long before I met her. Let me see what I can do. Maybe I can persuade her to let me have it.”

“Oh, Jackson! That would be wonderful. I love that house. We’re going to be so happy there.”

The only thing that would make her happier than moving in and staking her claim would be if Daphne had to move in to Amber’s one-room hovel. She knew she was being a bitch, but she didn’t care. Daphne had been spoiled for far too long. It would do her good to see how it felt to have the designer shoe on the other foot. She might have pretended to be Amber’s friend, but Amber knew that, deep down, Daphne still considered her the help. Reaching down like Lady Bountiful to help poor, pathetic Amber. It infuriated her to realize that Daphne had never considered her a threat. Daphne thought she was so much more beautiful than Amber, was so secure in Jackson’s love for her. Well, guess what, Daphne. He loves me now. He belongs to me now. And I’m giving him a brand-new family. You and your brats are obsolete.

Sixty-Seven

It was finally happening! Jackson had called her that morning and asked her to come to the New York apartment to discuss something “serious.” Daphne didn’t need to wonder what it was about because, thanks to a lesson with private eye Jerry Hanson, she’d learned how to clone a cell phone. She’d been privy to texts between Amber and Jackson for the past month. She had to give it to Amber, that disappearing stunt of hers was a stroke of genius. Jackson would do just about anything to ensure he didn’t lose the son he’d been waiting to have for so long.

She arrived at five o’clock, and when she walked into the apartment, she could smell Amber’s perfume. The two of them were sitting on the sofa.

She pretended to be shocked. “What’s going on?”

“Sit down, Daphne,” Jackson answered. Amber said nothing, merely sat there with a tight smile and a malicious look in her eyes. “We need to talk to you.”

Daphne continued to stand and looked at Amber. “We?”

Amber looked down at her hands, but her lips were still curled in a smile.

“Whatever is going on, just tell me.”

Jackson leaned back and stared at her a long moment. “I think it’s pretty clear that we’ve been unhappy lately.”

Unhappy lately? Daphne wanted to say. When have we ever been happy? “What are you talking about?”

He stood up and started pacing and then turned to look at her. “I’m divorcing you, Daphne. Amber is pregnant with my son.”

For their benefit, Daphne feigned shock and sank into the chair. “Pregnant? You’re sleeping with her?”

“What did you expect?” His eyes traveled up and down her body. “You’ve let yourself go. Fat, slovenly, and lazy. No wonder you couldn’t produce a son for me. You treat your body like shit.”

It took everything she had not to tell them how stupid they both were. Instead, she pasted on a sad expression and looked at Amber. “How long have you been sleeping with my husband?”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. We fell in love.” At this, she looked at Jackson, and he took her hand in his.

“Really?” Daphne’s voice rose. “Then how long have you been in love?”

“I’m sorry, Daphne. I never meant to hurt you.” Her eyes told a different story. It was obvious that she was relishing every moment.

“I trusted you, treated you like a sister, and this is how you repay me?”

She sighed. “We couldn’t help ourselves. We’re soul mates.”

Daphne almost started laughing, and a sound escaped that she hoped they mistook for a sob.

“I’m really sorry, Daphne,” she repeated. “Sometimes these things just happen.” She put a hand on her belly and rubbed. “Our children will be related, so I hope in time you’ll come to forgive me.”

Daphne’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously? Are you cra—”

“Enough,” Jackson interrupted. “We want to get married, and I want to do it before my son is born. I’ll make it worth your while to give me a quick divorce.”

Daphne stood. “I have a lot to think about. When I’m ready to discuss it, I’ll let you know. And I don’t want her there.”

As soon as she walked out of the apartment and out of their line of sight, she broke into a smile of her own. It was already worth her while, but she wouldn’t tell him that. How can you put a price on your freedom? But she’d take the money for her children’s sake. Why should Amber have it all? No, she’d make sure that the settlement was generous, and then she’d grant him his quick divorce.

Sixty-Eight

Amber closed her eyes as the manicurist massaged her hands with creamy lotion. She’d told the girl that she was getting married, and immediately she’d gushingly suggested a French manicure. How completely tacky. She opened her eyes and looked at her left hand. It was the first time she’d taken the Graff diamond — one carat larger than Daphne’s — off her finger. She smiled and watched as the polish went on and then suddenly pulled her hand away.

“I don’t like that color. Take it off and let me see what else you have,” she demanded.

The young woman obediently gathered more bottles and set them before Amber. She took her time looking them over and finally chose a champagne nude. “This one.” She pointed to the bottle and sat back in the leather chair. She’d had the works today — massage, facial, pedicure. Tomorrow she would look beautiful, and all her dreams would become a reality as she stood before a clerk of the court and became Mrs. Jackson Parrish. Jackson’s divorce had become final just in time. The baby was due any day, and she wanted to be Jackson’s wife when he was born. Jackson had been in a state of ecstasy about the coming birth of his son, and he wanted a huge wedding to introduce his pregnant new wife to all of his friends.

“We’ll have it at the house and invite everyone. It’ll be huge, at least three hundred people. I want them all to meet my gorgeous wife. We’ll announce the impending arrival of our amazing son,” he’d said.

“Jackson, really. Everyone knows about the baby. The divorce, the pregnancy, our engagement — it’s all been the choicest gossip for the last six months. Besides, I want something small and intimate. Just the two of us.” There was no way she was going to have all the snobs in Bishops Harbor looking at her fat and pregnant, talking behind her back at her wedding and reporting back to Daphne. “We can have a big party later, after the baby’s born.” She laughed and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Besides, then I won’t have this enormous belly and can wear something beautiful. Please?” She wanted to make sure that the first time she appeared in print as Jackson’s wife, she looked the part. She wasn’t worried any longer about being recognized. No one from her Podunk town would make the connection. They would never in a million years imagine that Lana Crump had become the fabulous Amber Parrish. And besides, if anyone came nosing around, she’d have plenty of money to make any pesky problem disappear.

He had pursed his lips and nodded. “Okay. We’ll do it later. But what about Tallulah and Bella? They should be there.”

She wasn’t about to let an angry and morose Tallulah and a spoiled Bella take center stage at her wedding. They would ruin everything. Better that they hear about it after the fact, when it was too late for any tears and tantrums that might discourage their father.

“Yes, you’re right. I wonder, though, do you think it will upset them to see me pregnant? I don’t want them to be sad that it’s not their mother who’s having the baby. I would hate for them to be hurt or feel they’re being replaced. Maybe it’ll be easier once he’s born. He’ll be their brother, and it won’t really matter who the mother is. Let them wait for the big celebration afterward. I think that will be much easier for them.”

“I don’t know. It might not look right if they’re not there,” he’d said.

“They’ll have much more fun at the party we throw later.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I just want them to like me. Accept me as their stepmother. I’ve even discussed it with the pediatrician. She thought it might be too much for them, but said to run it by you.” Amber had made up the pediatrician part, but her eyes were wide with a look of innocence.

“You have a point. I suppose it’s not really necessary. After all, none of our other family will be there.”

Amber had smiled at him and taken his hand. “We’ll be one big, happy family. You’ll see. I’m sure they’ll love their little brother.”

“I can’t wait to meet this little guy.”

“Soon,” she’d said. “But in the meantime, how would my handsome husband-to-be like a little gratification?” Amber reached over and unbuckled his belt.

“You turn me on like no one else,” he said and slumped back in his chair. As she got on her knees, she reminded herself that once she was Mrs. Parrish, she wouldn’t have to pretend to enjoy this anymore.

Amber rose early the next morning. She had told Jackson that it was bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other the night before they got married, so he’d taken a hotel room at the Plaza while she stayed at the apartment. She didn’t give a crap about those silly superstitions, but she wanted the morning to herself. There were calls she wanted to make, and she didn’t want Jackson around to hear them. She had a light breakfast of yogurt and fruit and checked her e-mails. There were three from Jackson’s new administrative assistant. Amber had taken her time and chosen very carefully from a slew of applicants. She thought her selection perfect — young, attractive, smart, technologically up-to-date, outside-the-box thinker, and, best of all, male. Of course the checkbook would be coming home, too. Only Amber would see what was spent in their household. She would never make the stupid mistakes that Daphne had.

After a luxurious bath, she dried herself off, spread some exorbitantly expensive body cream all over, and turned sideways to see her belly in the mirror. The huge ball disgusted her. She couldn’t wait for this kid to be born and to get her figure back. She shook her head and, looking away, grabbed one of the terry-cloth robes. She’d gotten one for each of them, monogrammed and plush and expensive. She laughed to herself. Whenever she bought something, she went to the Internet and typed in “most expensive” whatever it was. She was a quick learner.

Amber and Jackson were meeting at city hall at one o’clock, so she still had plenty of time to get dressed and call for the limo. She reclined on the velvet chaise longue in the bedroom and punched in the telephone number on her mobile.

“Hello?” It was Daphne.

“I want to speak to the girls.”

“I’m not sure they wish to speak with you.” Daphne’s words were clipped and chilly.

“Listen, you can stand in my way all you want, but it behooves you to cooperate with me, or your little brats will be out of the picture faster than you can say ‘divorce agreement.’”

Amber heard nothing for a moment, and then the sound of Tallulah’s voice came on. “Hullo?”

“Tallulah, sweetheart, where’s your sister? Can you put her on the extension?”

“Hold on, Amber.”

Tallulah yelled for Bella to pick up the phone and waited a few minutes. “Bella, are you on the phone?”

“Yes.”

“Tallulah, are you still there?” Amber asked.

“Yes, Amber.”

“I want to tell you both that I’m very sad you won’t be at the wedding today. I told your father I wanted it to be only family and not a big party. I just wanted the two of you and no one else, but your father thought you were too young to be there.” Amber made a sniffling sound, as if she were crying. “You have to understand that your father is very excited to be having a baby boy, so sometimes he forgets about you two. I want us to be very good friends, and I will make sure that you’re part of our new family. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Tallulah said flatly.

“Bella, what about you?” Amber pressed.

“My daddy loves me. He won’t forget me.”

Amber could picture Bella stamping her imperious little foot.

“Of course you’re right, Bella. I wouldn’t worry if I were you. By the way, did I tell you that the new baby will have your father’s name? Jackson Marc Parrish Junior?”

“I hate you,” Bella said and clicked off.

“I’m sorry, Amber. You know how Bella gets,” Tallulah said.

“I know, Tallulah. But I’m sure you’ll be able to talk some sense into her, right?”

“I’ll try,” she said. “Talk to you later.”

“Bye, sweetheart. The next time we talk, I’ll be your stepmother.”

Amber hung up, satisfied that she had gotten her message across. Tallulah was a peacekeeper and would present no problems. Some sparkly jewelry and new toys would be enough to eventually bring Bella around. Not that Amber intended for them to be at the house often enough for it to matter.

She pulled her computer next to her and answered the e-mails that needed attention, then rose to dress. There wasn’t much she could do to look sexy and desirable for Jackson, but apparently the baby belly was enough to induce his euphoria anyway. She squeezed herself into a cream-colored dress and put on the new Ella Gafter pearls Jackson had bought her as a wedding present. She wore no other jewelry except her emerald-cut diamond ring.

When she arrived, Jackson and Douglas, his new assistant, stood waiting for her in front of the building. “You look absolutely beautiful,” Jackson said, taking her hand.

“I look like a beached whale.”

“You are an image of loveliness. I don’t want to hear another word.”

Amber shook her head and turned to Douglas. “Thank you for agreeing to be our witness today.”

“My pleasure.”

Jackson put his arm around her, and the three of them climbed the stairs to the entrance.

They waited their turn, and when it was time, they stood in front of an officiant. Before they knew it, he was telling Jackson he could kiss his bride. His bride. Amber tasted the word in her mouth. She savored how delicious it was.

“Well, I guess I’ll get back to the office. Congratulations,” Douglas said, reaching out and shaking Jackson’s hand.

As Douglas walked away, Amber leaned against her new husband and felt a thrill of electricity go through her body. A thin platinum band now complemented the diamond on her ring finger. They were finally married. Anytime now was the silent message she sent their unborn son. As they got in the limousine and she sat back against the fine leather, she envisioned the life ahead of her — expensive homes around the world, fantasy trips, nannies and maids at her command, designer clothes and jewelry.

The stuck-up women in Bishops Harbor would soon enough be bowing before her — that much she was sure of. It only took lots and lots of money and a powerful husband. They’d be falling over themselves to be her friend. Ha. She loved it. Everyone in the club would be clamoring to sit at her table at the annual regatta dinner. She’d had to do a little damage control to make sure that Gregg’s family didn’t do anything to mess that up for her. Once she and Jackson had broken the news to Daphne, Amber had invited Gregg out to meet her for a drink. She figured he’d have an easier time keeping a stiff upper lip if they were out in public. They’d met at the White Whale in Bishops Harbor, a little tavern on the water. She was already seated at a table when he arrived. He walked over and leaned down to kiss her. She turned her face so that he got her cheek. Off balance, he took the seat across from her.

“Is everything okay?”

She’d blinked back tears and pointed at the glass of whiskey in front of him. “Take a sip. I ordered it for you.”

A look of confusion had passed over his face, and he’d taken a long swallow. “You’re scaring me.”

“There’s no easy way to say it, so I’m going to just come out with it. I’ve fallen in love with someone else.”

His mouth had dropped open. “What? Who?”

She’d put a hand over his. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s just—” She’d stopped and brushed a tear from her cheek. “It’s just that we were together every day. Working together day in and day out, and we discovered we’re soul mates.”

He’d frowned and looked even more puzzled.

Is he that stupid? She’d suppressed a sigh. “It’s Jackson.”

“Jackson? Jackson Parrish? But he’s married. And so much older than you. I thought you were in love with me.” His lower lip trembled.

“I know he’s married. But he wasn’t happy. Sometimes these things happen. You know how it is to work closely with someone and how feelings can develop. I’ve seen the way your assistant looks at you at the office.”

He’d narrowed his eyes then. “Becky?”

She’d nodded. “Yes. And she’s quite lovely too. You must have noticed how enamored she is of you.”

She’d had to stay for another two drinks before she could leave, and he’d told her he understood. She’d begged him not to take his friendship from her, made him believe that she needed him to be there for her in this time of uncertainty and public judgment. And the idiot fell for it. There would be no trouble from him at the club. And Becky should thank Amber. She was about to be promoted from assistant to fiancée.

Jackson and Amber Parrish would be the new golden couple of Bishops Harbor. And as soon as this baby was born, she’d be sure it would be the last. She was going to have her body back. The glow of happiness and satisfaction surrounding her at that moment could have lit up Manhattan.

Sixty-Nine

Daphne knew it would only take one visit to the house that used to be theirs to make the girls never want to go back. Up to now, the visits had taken place in neutral territory. But Amber and Jackson wanted to have them over for the weekend, and she’d finally relented.

Amber had moved into his social circles seamlessly, and if Daphne had cared more about the women she’d spent the last ten years with, she might have been hurt that they embraced her husband’s new wife so easily. But then again, no one in this town would dare to snub the new Mrs. Jackson Parrish. The one friend who didn’t desert Daphne was Meredith. She had remained a true friend. Daphne wished she could tell Meredith the full truth, but she couldn’t risk it. So she let her think that she was foolish and naive.

They pulled up to the house and got out of the car.

“Let me ring the bell,” Bella shouted as the two of them ran up to the front door.

“Whatever,” Tallulah answered.

A uniformed man appeared. So they have a butler. She didn’t know why she was surprised.

He opened the door. “You must be Bella and Tallulah. Mrs. Parrish is expecting you.”

Hearing Amber called Mrs. Parrish was jarring, but Daphne walked in behind them, nodding at him.

“Please wait here, and I’ll get madam.”

Moments later, Amber breezed in, holding her new son.

Bella looked up at her and asked, “Where’s my daddy?”

“Bella, don’t you want to meet your little brother, Jackson Junior?” Amber asked as she brought the baby closer.

Bella stared at the child, a pout on her face. “He’s ugly. He’s all wrinkled.”

A look of hatred flashed across Amber’s face, and she turned to Daphne. “Why don’t you teach your children some manners?”

For once, Daphne was grateful for Bella’s bluntness. She gave Amber a cool look and put a hand on Bella’s shoulder. “Darling, don’t be rude.”

“Maybe your father forgot you were coming,” Amber said. “He’s buying toys for baby Jackson. He loves him so much. Do you want me to call and remind him?”

Tallulah looked up at Daphne in horror. Daphne wanted to kill Amber right then and there.

“Maybe we should reschedule the visit—” Daphne started, but Bella stomped her foot and interrupted her.

“No! We haven’t seen Daddy in weeks.”

“Of course you should stay,” Amber said. She turned to her butler. “Edgar, would you take Bella and Tallulah to the drawing room where they can wait for Mr. Parrish? I have things to do.”

“Please stay until Daddy comes,” Tallulah whispered to her mother.

Daphne squeezed Tallulah’s hand and whispered, “Of course I will.”

“Amber.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll wait with the girls. How long do you think he’ll be?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re so overprotective. Suit yourself. I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

Daphne took both of the girls’ hands in hers, and they followed Edgar to the “drawing room,” where an enormous portrait of Amber, pregnant and naked, was perched on the wall above the marble fireplace. One hand covered her breasts, and the other rested on her pregnant belly. The entire room showcased photos from their wedding, and Daphne realized that Amber wanted them to see it. She’d orchestrated Jackson’s being gone, knowing that Daphne wouldn’t leave the girls until he returned.

“I hate her,” Tallulah announced.

“Come here.” She pulled Tallulah into her arms and whispered, “I know she’s horrible. Try to ignore her and just enjoy your father.”

“Girls!” They looked up to see Jackson come in, and they both ran into his arms.

“I guess that’s my cue.” Daphne stood. “I’ll be back on Sunday to pick them up.”

Jackson wouldn’t even look in her direction, and she watched as the three of them left the room.

She went back to the foyer, and as her hand reached for the doorknob, Amber’s voice rang out.

“Bye, Daph. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of your little brats.”

Daphne swung around, glaring at her. “You harm one hair on their heads, and I’ll kill you.”

She laughed. “You’re so dramatic. They’ll be fine. Just don’t be late picking them up. I have naughty plans for my husband. He can’t get enough of me.”

“Enjoy it while you can.”

Her face darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Daphne smiled. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Seventy

Daphne was about to play her trump card. They had been divorced for two months now, and Daphne had already put the millions she walked away with to good use. She had gotten custody of the girls, and Jackson had weekend visitation rights. She was here to change that.

She walked up to Jackson’s assistant’s desk.

“Good morning, Douglas. Is he alone?”

“Yes, but is he expecting you?”

“No, but I’ll only take a moment. Promise.”

“Okay.”

She walked into Jackson’s office.

He looked up, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Good morning to you too. I have a bit of news that you’ll find most interesting,” she told him as she shut the door and handed him a file.

“What the hell is this?” His face turned white as he scanned the contents. “This can’t be right. I’ve seen her passport.”

“Amber is a missing person. Your wife, Lana, is using her identity. How does it feel to be the one on the other side? She’s nothing but a common con artist.” She laughed. “Makes you wonder if she really wants you or just your money.”

The vein in his temple was pulsating so hard she thought it might break through the skin.

“I don’t understand,” he sputtered, continuing to look the article over.

“It’s quite simple. Amber — I mean Lana — targeted you. She insinuated herself into my life with the express purpose of landing a rich husband. Of course, once I was onto her, she became my golden ticket out.”

“What are you talking about? You knew she and I were together?”

“I orchestrated it. I practically gift-wrapped her for you. The weekend at the lake, I drove you right into her arms. And the reason I couldn’t get pregnant? Well, let’s just say it’s hard to get pregnant when you’re using an IUD.”

His eyes opened wide in surprise. “You played me?”

“I learned from the best.”

“You fuc—”

“Now, now, Jackson. It won’t do to lose your cool.”

His breath was coming faster. “Are you planning on exposing her?”

“That depends on you.”

“What do you want?”

“For you to terminate your parental rights.”

“Are you crazy? I’m not signing away my rights to my children.”

“If you don’t, I’ll go to the police and tell them who she is. They’ll arrest her. Is that the legacy you want for your son? A convict for a mother? He’ll never get into Charterhouse with that kind of background.”

He slammed his fist on the desk. “You bitch!”

Daphne arched an eyebrow, feeling calm in his presence for the first time in years. “If you’re going to start name-calling, I’ll just go ahead and phone the police. Maybe the newspapers too, so they can see your new wife leave the house in handcuffs.”

He took several loud, deep breaths, clenching and unclenching his fists. “How do I know once I sign away my rights you won’t turn her in anyway?”

“You don’t. But you know I’m not like you. I just want to get away from you once and for all. As long as you’re with Amber, I know you’ll leave me alone. That’s all I want. So you’ll sign?”

“What will people think? I can’t have them thinking I’ve abandoned my children,” he said.

She shook her head. “You tell them I wouldn’t grant you the divorce unless you agreed to let me go to California; that I’ve been cheating on you, whatever you want. You’re good at making things up. Paint me as the horrible parent and pretend you come out to see them every chance you get. No one will know.”

“You don’t care how you look?”

“No. That’s your game.” All she cared about was getting her children and herself as far away from him as possible. “You’ll have everything you want. And before you even think of doing anything to stop me, please know that if anything happens to me, all the evidence will be forwarded to Meredith. And I’ve made other contingency plans as well.”

He had no idea what private detective she had used or how many fail-safes she had set up. The detective had all the information, for one, and if anything were to happen to Daphne, he’d go to the police. She’d also told her mother everything and given her copies of Amber’s file.

“Do you have the papers with you?”

She opened her purse and took out the envelope. “Have your attorney review them. There’s a place for his signature. They need to be notarized. There’s also a statement from you that you made up all the charges against me with the Department of Children and Families.”

“Why would I sign that?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll call the police. I’m not letting you have any more leverage over my life. Sign it, and no one will ever see it unless you try and come after the kids.”

He sighed. “Fine. You can have your life back, Daphne. I was tired of you anyway. You’re old and used up.” His eyes traveled up and down her body. “At least I got your youth.”

She shook her head, unaffected by his words. “I almost feel sorry for you. I don’t know if you were born this way or if your parents screwed you up, but you’re a miserable son of a bitch. You’re never going to be happy. But the truth is, I can’t even regret being with you. Because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have the two most amazing gifts in my life. So I’ll trade those horrible years with you for my children. And I have plenty of love and life left in me.”

He yawned. “Are you finished?”

“I was finished years ago.” She stood. “And by the way, you’re a terrible lover.”

He exploded with fury and flew from his chair toward her.

She opened the door and retreated.

“I’ll expect those papers tomorrow,” she said as she left.

Seventy-One

Amber’s happiness was short-lived. After the baby was born, Amber and Jackson had gone on a belated honeymoon to Bora Bora. He’d been everything she could have hoped for in a husband. All she had to do was ask for whatever she wanted, and it was hers. Round-the-clock nurse care for their son, unlimited shopping allowance, and all the pampering she desired. She loved the way everyone in the stores and the spas kowtowed to her, and she enjoyed being able to be as rude as she wanted with no repercussions. No one would dare insult Mrs. Jackson Parrish, especially with the kind of money she threw around.

Amber didn’t have to worry about having those little monsters around since Daphne had moved with them to California. Jackson told her he would visit them there.

So when she woke that morning to Jackson standing over the bed, staring at her, she had no idea what was to come. She rubbed her eyes and sat up.

“What are you doing?”

He was scowling. “Wondering if you’re ever going to get your lazy ass out of bed.”

She thought at first he was joking.

Laughing, she answered. “You love this ass.”

“It’s getting a little fat for my taste. When’s the last time you went to the gym?”

She was pissed now. Throwing off the covers, she jumped up. “You may have been able to talk to Daphne that way. But not me.”

He pushed her, and she fell back on the bed.

“What the hell—”

“Shut up. I know all about your past.”

Her eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

He threw a file folder on the bed. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

The first thing she saw was a copy of a newspaper article with an old picture of her. She picked it up and quickly scanned it. “Where did you get this?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Jackson, I can explain. Please, you don’t understand.”

“Save it. No one makes a fool of me. I should turn you in, let you go to jail.”

“I’m the mother of your child. And I love you.”

“Do you, now? Like you loved him?”

“I… it wasn’t like that…”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell anyone. It wouldn’t be good for my son to have a mother in jail.” He leaned closer to her, his face inches away. “But I own you now. So I will talk to you however I want. And you’ll take it, do you understand?”

She’d nodded, frantically calculating her next move. She thought he was just angry — that once she could come up with a believable story, he’d calm down and things would go back to the way they were.

But instead, things began to escalate. He put her on a strict allowance, making her account for every dime she spent. She was still trying to figure out how to fix that. Then he wanted to choose her clothes, her books, and her leisure activities. She had to go to the gym every day. He expected her to volunteer for that stuck-up garden club Daphne had been so involved in. She could tell that the women didn’t want her there, and she couldn’t give a crap about it. Why did she need to learn about gardening? Isn’t that what gardeners were for? And the journal — the damn food journal that he insisted she keep, along with her daily weight. It was humiliating. That was what put her over the edge and made her call his bluff. It was just last week.

“Are you crazy? I’m not reporting to you on what I eat every day. You can take that journal and stick it up your ass.” She’d thrown it on the floor.

His face had turned red, and he stood looking at her like he wanted to kill her. “Pick it up,” he’d said through clenched teeth.

“I will not.”

“I’m warning you, Amber.”

“Or what? You already said you weren’t going to turn me in. Stop threatening me. I’m not weak and malleable, like your first wife.”

At this he’d exploded. “You can’t hold a candle to Daphne, you low-class whore. You can read all you want, study all you want, and you’ll never be anything but poor white trash.”

Before she had time to think, her hand was around the crystal clock on the table next to her, and she’d thrown it at him. It crashed to the floor, missing him completely. She watched as he advanced toward her, a murderous look in his eyes.

“You crazy bitch. Don’t you ever try and hurt me.” He’d grabbed her wrists and squeezed until she yelled out in pain.

“Don’t threaten me, Jackson. I’ll take you down.” Inside she was trembling, but she knew she had to put on a brave face if she had any hope of keeping the upper hand.

He’d abruptly let go, turned, and left, and she thought she’d won.

When he came home that night, neither of them said a word about the fight. Amber had asked Margarita to prepare something French for dinner — coq au vin. She’d googled it, along with the right wine and dessert to serve. She’d show him who had class. He arrived home at seven and went straight to his study, where he stayed until she called him for dinner at eight.

“How do you like it?” she asked after he took a bite.

He gave her a droll look. “Why do you ask? It’s not as though you made it.”

She threw her napkin on the table. “I chose it. Look, Jackson, I’m trying to make peace here. I don’t want to fight. Don’t you want things to go back to the way they were between us?”

He took a sip of his wine and looked at her. “You tricked me into leaving Daphne. You made me think you were something you’re not. So, no, Amber. I don’t think things can go back to the way they were before. If it weren’t for our son, you’d be in prison.”

She was sick of hearing about the sainted Daphne. “Daphne couldn’t stand you. She used to complain all the time that you made her skin crawl.” Daphne had never said any such thing to Amber, but it shut him up.

“What makes you think I believe a word that comes out of your mouth?”

She was making things worse. “It’s true. But I love you. I will win your trust back.”

They finished their dinner in silence. Afterward, Jackson went to his office, and Amber stopped by the nursery to look in on Jackson Junior. Mrs. Wright, the nanny, was sitting in the rocking chair, reading a book. Amber had talked Jackson into hiring a live-in nanny to help with the baby. Sabine was gone. Amber didn’t need that stuck-up French slut around. Surrey still helped out on the weekends. Bunny had referred Mrs. Wright, and she’d come with excellent credentials. She was also a respectable age, and no one that Jackson would ever look at twice.

“Any problem putting him down?” Amber asked.

“No, ma’am. Drank his bottle and went right to sleep. He’s a sweet one, that one.”

Amber leaned over and planted a soft kiss on his head. He was a beautiful child, and she looked forward to the day when he’d become interesting. When he could carry on a conversation and play games instead of just lying around like a lump.

Amber got in bed and pulled out the detective novel she’d hidden in her nightstand. Close to an hour later, Jackson finally came up, and she put it away before he could see it. It had been two weeks since they’d had sex, and she was getting worried. When he slipped under the covers, she reached over and began to stroke him. He pushed her hand away.

“Not in the mood.”

She tossed and turned and finally fell asleep, still wondering how she was going to restore harmony between them.

Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She woke up in a panic and realized he was straddling her, his hand over her nose. She pried his fingers from her face, and gasping, cried out.

“What are you doing?”

“Ah, good. You’re awake.”

He flipped the lamp on. Her eyes flew open when she saw that he was holding a gun; the same gun she’d found in Daphne’s closet all those months ago.

“Jackson! What are you doing?”

He pointed the gun at her head. “If you ever throw anything at me again, you won’t wake up the next time.”

She went to push his hand away, certain he was just playing around. “Ha, ha.”

He grabbed her wrist with his other hand. “I’m serious.”

Her mouth fell open. “What do you want?”

“Bye, Amber.”

She screamed as his finger depressed the trigger. Click. Nothing happened.

She felt something wet and realized her bladder had emptied. A look of disgust filled his face.

“You’re weak. Pissing the bed like a child.”

He jumped off, still pointing the gun at her.

“This time you get a pass. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

“I’ll call the cops.”

He laughed. “No, you won’t. They’d end up arresting you. You’re a fugitive, remember?” He pointed to the bed. “Get up and change the sheets.”

“Can I take a shower first?”

“No.”

She got up and began to strip the bed, sobbing as she did so. He stood, watching the entire time, not saying a word. After she’d finished, he spoke again.

“Go take a shower, and then we’ll have a little talk.” She began to walk away, and he called her back.

“One more thing.” He threw the gun at her, and it fell to the floor before she could catch it. “Don’t worry, it’s not loaded. Take a look at the initials.”

She picked it up and saw the letters she’d first read months before: YMB. “What does it stand for?”

He smiled. “You’re mine, bitch.”

So now she listened to everything he said, like an obedient child. When he told her to lose five pounds, she didn’t argue, even though she was back to her pre-baby weight already. When he called her “stupid” and “white trash,” she didn’t argue with him, but apologized for whatever perceived infraction she’d committed. He showered her with expensive clothes and jewelry, but now she understood that it was all for show. And in public they were the golden couple, she the adored and adoring wife, he the handsome indulgent husband.

The sex became more demeaning and debasing — he’d demand oral pleasure from her when she was on her way out the door, or after she’d just gotten dressed, so he could make sure to leave his mark and humiliate her further. What had she ever done to deserve this? Life was so unfair. She’d worked so hard to escape her life in that wretched town where everyone looked at her like she was trash. Now she was Mrs. Jackson Parrish, one of the richest women in town, surrounded by the best of everything. And yet she was still being looked down on, still being treated like garbage. All she’d wanted was the life she deserved. It didn’t occur to her that she had gotten it.

Seventy-Two

Eight Months Later

Daphne gripped the phone tightly in her hand while looking out the window of the New York cab. She’d been too nervous to eat anything on the plane, and her stomach was growling insistently now. Rooting through her bag, she found a mint and put it in her mouth. She took a deep breath and braced herself when they pulled up to the front of Jackson’s office building. After today, she could leave Connecticut behind her for good and get on with the new life she was forging.

Once the divorce was final, Daphne had taken the girls and gone to see her mother at the inn. She hadn’t called ahead — she didn’t really know how to begin. After they’d settled in and the girls had gone to sleep, she and Ruth sat together and she told her everything from beginning to end.

Her mother had been heartbroken. “My poor girl. Why didn’t you ever tell me? You should have come to me.”

Daphne had sighed. “I tried. When Tallulah was a baby, I left. But that’s when he had me committed and put together all that evidence against me. There was nothing I could do.” Daphne reached out and grabbed her mother’s hand. “And there was nothing you could do.”

Ruth was crying. “I should have known. You’re my daughter. I should have seen through him. Realized you hadn’t really changed into the person he made you out to be.”

“No, Mom. You couldn’t have known. Please don’t blame yourself. What matters is that I’m free now. We can be together now.”

“Your father never liked him,” Ruth had said quietly.

“What?”

“I thought he was being overprotective. You know, just a dad not wanting his little girl to grow up. He thought he was too slick, too practiced. I wish I’d listened.”

“I wouldn’t have listened. It would have only pushed us further apart than we already were.” She put her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I miss him so much. He was a wonderful father.”

They’d stayed up all night, catching up and reconnecting. Her mother surprised her the next day with her decision.

“How would you feel if I sold the inn to Barry and moved with you to California?”

“I’d be thrilled! Are you serious?”

She’d nodded. “I’ve missed enough. I don’t want to miss any more.”

The girls had been ecstatic to learn that their grandmother would be living with them.

Southern California had been good for all of them. The constant sunshine and happy dispositions of everyone around them had done wonders. The girls still missed their father, of course, but every day it got a little easier. They blamed Amber for the estrangement, and Daphne was happy to let them. When they were old enough, she would tell them the truth. In the meantime, the girls were healing, with the help of a gifted therapist, a neighborhood full of kids, and a yellow lab they called Mr. Bandit — renamed for his tendency to steal their toys.

They’d found a lovely four-bedroom home in Santa Cruz a mile and a half from the beach. At first she was worried that the girls would find it hard to go from living in their estate on the water to this charming but cozy two-thousand-square-foot house. She had more than enough money from the settlement to buy something bigger, but she was finished living that kind of life. Her mother had sold the B&B to Barry and insisted on contributing to the purchase of the house. Daphne had put the money from the settlement in a trust for the girls, which provided enough interest for them to live on. Douglas would be taking the reins at Julie’s Smile, and Daphne would be on his board. She’d go back to working, of course, but not yet. Now was a time for healing.

When she brought the girls to look at the house, she had held her breath, waiting for their reaction. They had immediately run up the stairs to see where their rooms would be.

“Oh, can this be mine, Mommy? I love the pink walls!” Bella had asked after checking them all out.

Daphne had looked at Tallulah. “Fine with me. I like the one with the built-in bookcases,” Tallulah said.

“It’s settled, then.” She’d smiled. “You like it?” They’d both nodded.

“Mommy, will this be your room?” Bella had taken her hand and pulled her to the master bedroom.

“Yes, this will be mine, and Grandmom will have the third floor to herself.”

“Yay! You’ll be so close to me.”

“That makes you happy?” she’d asked.

Bella had nodded. “I used to get scared in that big house, with you and Daddy so far from me. This is so nice.”

Daphne had hugged her. “Yes, it is.” And she’d said a silent thanks that she would never have to lock her bedroom door again.

The refrigerator was filled with their favorite foods; there was ice cream in the freezer and candy in the pantry. Daphne had left her scale in Connecticut and felt healthier and more beautiful than she ever had. Sometimes she would still reach for her food journal, and she’d have to remind herself that she didn’t have to write things down anymore. She’d brought it with her as a reminder never to let anyone control her again. She was delighted to keep those extra ten pounds she’d put on, which gave her a feminine and shapely form. Walking into the family room and hearing SpongeBob’s braying laughter, watching her daughters revel in the silliness, overjoyed her. She relished the freedom to make her own choices without fear of reprisal. It was like letting out a sigh of relief that had been pent up for years.

School would let out in another three weeks, and they were all looking forward to a lazy summer collecting seashells and learning how to surf. She loved the simplicity of their life here. No more packed schedules and regimented days. When she drove them to school on their first day, Bella had looked at her with surprise.

“Aren’t we going to have a nanny that will drive us?”

“No, darling. I’m happy to take you.”

“But don’t you need to get to the gym?”

“Why do I need the gym? I can ride my bike to the beach and take a walk. Lots of things to do. It’s too beautiful here to be stuck inside.”

“But what if you get fat?”

It had been like a knife to the heart. Clearly Jackson’s imprint wasn’t going to be as easy to wash away as she’d hoped.

“We’re not going to worry about fat or thin anymore — only healthy. God made our bodies very smart, and if we put good things in them and do fun things for exercise, it will all be okay.”

Both girls had looked at her a bit dubiously, but she’d work on it over time.

Daphne’s mother had arrived last week, and had been as enchanted with the house and the area as Daphne. It felt so good to have her mother back in her life for real.

Now the cab was pulling to a stop, and Daphne paid the driver. When she walked into the office building, the familiar feeling of dread engulfed her. She squared her shoulders, took a long breath, and reminded herself that now she had nothing to fear. She didn’t belong to him anymore. She sent a text and waited. Five minutes later, Douglas, Jackson’s assistant, came down on the elevator and walked over. He gave Daphne a hug.

“I’m glad you made it. I just got the call. They’ll be here any minute.”

“Does he have any idea?”

Douglas shook his head.

“How bad is it?”

“Bad. I’ve been giving them the spreadsheets for months now. I was finally able to get some of the account numbers two weeks ago. Pretty sure that’s what clinched it.”

“Shall we go up?” Daphne asked.

“Yes, let me sign you in.” He turned around and looked behind her. “They’re here,” he whispered.

There were four men clad in shiny blue raid jackets, the gold letters “FBI” embossed across the left breast, entering the building. They approached the security desk, flashing their credentials.

“Come on, let’s get upstairs before they do,” Douglas said.

As the elevator ascended, she felt a throbbing pulse in her wrists and a tingling all the way to her fingertips. Her face was hot, and she felt a sudden wave of nausea overwhelm her.

“Are you okay?” Douglas asked.

She swallowed, put her hand on her stomach, and nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just felt a little woozy there for a minute.” She tried to smile. “Don’t worry. I’m all right.”

“You sure? You don’t have to be here, you know.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

The elevator doors opened, and Daphne followed Douglas into the suite of offices and went with him to his, directly outside Jackson’s.

She had a thought and quickly turned to Douglas. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have something to say to him before they go in.”

“You’d better hurry.”

She flung open the door without bothering to knock, and after a confused second, Jackson looked at her in surprise. He rose from his chair, looking impeccable in his custom suit, an angry scowl on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to give you a little going-away present,” Daphne answered sweetly, pulling a small package out of her handbag.

“What the hell are you talking about? Get out of my building before I have you thrown out.” Jackson picked up the phone on his desk.

“Don’t you want to see what I have, Jackson? The gift I’ve brought for you.”

“I don’t know what your little game is, Daphne, but I’m not interested. You’re boring me. You always bored me. Get the hell out of here.”

“Well, guess what. Your life is about to get really interesting. No more boredom.” She tossed the package onto his desk. “Here you go. Enjoy your time away.”

She opened the door and held her breath when she saw the men from the lobby advance toward the offices. Their faces were unsmiling and ominous.

Jackson and Daphne turned to look as Douglas escorted the suited quartet into Jackson’s office.

Daphne stepped aside as one of the men held out his credentials. “Jackson Parrish?”

Jackson nodded. “Yes.”

“FBI,” the older agent said, as the others fanned out around Jackson.

“What is this all about?” Jackson’s voice cracked as he raised it. The office was now deathly quiet. Chairs pivoted toward the commotion, all eyes on Jackson.

“Sir, I have a warrant for your arrest.”

“This is bullshit. For what?” Jackson said, his voice having returned.

“For thirty-six counts of wire fraud, money laundering, and tax evasion. And I assure you it is not bullshit.”

“Get the hell out of here! I haven’t done anything. Do you know who I am?”

“I most definitely do. Now if you would kindly turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“I’ll sue your asses. You’ll be lucky to be writing parking tickets when I’m through with you.”

“Sir, I am going to ask you one more time to turn around and put your hands behind your back,” the agent said as he firmly pivoted Jackson, leaning him against the wall.

With his cheek against the wall, he sputtered, “You! This is your doing, isn’t it?”

Daphne smiled. “I wanted to see the justice system in action. You know, it’s educational. You taught me that I should always be improving my mind.”

He lunged for her, but the men stopped him and cuffed him. “You bitch! No matter how long it takes, I’ll get even with you.” He struggled against the agent holding him. “You’ll be sorry you did this.”

A rather large agent standing behind Jackson pushed the chain of the cuffs that were in his hand gently toward the ground. Having no choice, Jackson dropped to his knees, wincing in pain.

Daphne shook her head. “I’m not sorry. And you can’t hurt me anymore. You have no one to blame but yourself. If you hadn’t gotten greedy and set up those offshore accounts, and if you’d paid taxes on that money like you should have, none of this would be happening. All I did was make sure your new assistant was someone with the integrity to turn you in.”

“What are you talking about?”

Douglas came and stood next to Daphne. “My sister has CF. Daphne’s foundation saved her life.” He looked at one of the men and nodded.

“Excuse me, ma’am… sir, I need the two of you to step back, please.” The agent sneaked in a wink and a wry smile. “Let’s go, Mr. Parrish,” he said, lifting him off his knees and in the direction of the elevator.

“Wait,” she said. “Don’t forget your present, Jackson.”

She grabbed the package from the desk and slipped it into his pocket.

“Sorry, ma’am. I need to see that.” The tallest of the men put his hand out.

She took the package from him and unwrapped it, holding up a cheap plastic turtle from the dollar store. “Here you are, sweetie,” she said as she dangled it in front of him. “Something to remember me by. Like you, it has no power over me anymore.”

Seventy-Three

Daphne had one more stop to make. She got out of the cab and told the driver to wait for her. It still felt strange, having to ring the bell to her former home. Margarita opened the door and threw her hands up in surprise. “Missus! It’s so good to see you.”

She gave her a hug. “You too, Margarita.” She lowered her voice. “I hope she’s treating you okay.”

Margarita’s face became a mask, and she looked around nervously. “Did you come to see Mister?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m here to see Amber.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I be right back.”

“What are you doing here?” Amber appeared, looking rail-thin and pale.

“We need to talk.”

She looked at Daphne suspiciously. “About what?”

“Let’s go inside. I don’t think you want your staff overhearing.”

“This is my house now. I’ll do the inviting.” She pursed her lips and then looked around nervously. “Fine, follow me.”

Daphne followed her into the living room and took a seat in front of the fireplace. An enormous portrait of Amber and Jackson on their wedding day had replaced the family portrait. Even though Amber had been pregnant and showing at the time, she’d had the artist paint her sylphlike, without the bulging belly.

Looking at Daphne warily, she spoke. “What gives?”

“Don’t ever bother my children again.”

She rolled her eyes. “All I did was send them an invitation to their brother’s baptism. Did you fly all the way from California just to complain about that?”

Ignoring Amber’s taunting, Daphne leaned toward her. “You listen to me, you little bitch. If you ever send them so much as a postcard, I’ll have your head. Is that clear, Lana?”

She leaped out of the chair and came close. “What did you call me?”

“You heard me… Lana. Lana Crump.” Daphne wrinkled her nose. “Such an unfortunate last name. It’s no wonder you don’t use it.”

Amber’s face was red, and her breath came fast. “How did you know?”

“I hired a detective after Meredith confronted you. I found out everything then.”

“But you were still my friend. You believed me. I don’t understand.”

“Did you really think I was that stupid? That I didn’t know exactly what you were up to? Please.” She shook her head. “Oh, Amber, I’m so worried about Jackson cheating. I could never give him a son. You ate it all up, did everything just the way I’d hoped you would, even ordered the perfume I was ‘allergic’ to.” She put air quotes around allergic. “And once you were carrying his son, I knew you had him. The reason I never got pregnant was because I had an IUD.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You planned all of this?”

Daphne smiled. “You thought you were getting the perfect life, the perfect man. How do you like him now, Lana? Has he shown you his true colors yet?”

Amber glared at Daphne. “I thought it was just me. That it was because of what he found out. He told me I was nothing better than white trash.” She looked at Daphne with hatred. “You’re the one who gave him the file?”

She nodded. “I read all about how you framed that poor boy Matthew Lockwood for rape when he wouldn’t marry you. How you let him sit in prison for two years for a crime he didn’t commit.”

“That son of a bitch deserved it. He kept me his dirty secret, slept with me all summer while his rich girlfriend was away. And his mother — you’d think she’d have wanted her grandchild. But she said I should have it aborted, that any child of mine would be nothing but trash. I laughed while they put her precious son away. I loved seeing the Lockwood name tainted with scandal and dirt. They thought they were so wonderful, so high-and-mighty.”

“You still feel no remorse? Even though because of you, he was beaten in prison and is in a wheelchair for the rest of his life?”

Amber stood up and began to pace. “So what? If he was too much of a weakling to take care of himself in prison, that’s not my fault. He’s nothing more than a coddled mama’s boy.” She shrugged. “Besides, he has money; he’s well taken care of. And his simpering girlfriend married him.”

“And what about your son?”

“What about Jackson Junior?”

“No, your other son. How could you just abandon him?”

“What should I have done? My mother found my diary and went to the police. They found that juror I convinced to fight for the conviction, and he agreed to testify against me. They arrested me. What kind of mother turns in her own daughter? She said she felt sorry for Matthew — like that spoiled brat deserved any sympathy. Once I got out on bail, I had to run. No way was I going to prison just for giving Matthew what he deserved.” She took a deep breath. “But I would like to get my son back, punish Matthew and his fat cow wife. She’s raising him like she’s his mother. He’s my kid, not hers. It’s not fair.”

“Fair?” Daphne laughed. “He’s so much better off without you. Tell me something, who is Amber Patterson? Did you have anything to do with her going missing?”

She rolled her eyes again. “Of course not. I hitched a ride out of town with a trucker from Missouri to Nebraska. I got a job waitressing there, and one of my regulars was a guy who worked in the records department. He got me the credentials.”

“How did you get her passport?”

She smiled then. “Oh, well, you know how small towns are. After a while, I finagled a way to meet her poor mom. She worked at the grocery store in town. Took a few months, but I guess I reminded her of her lost daughter. It helped that I wore my hair the way she had and talked to some of her friends and pretended I liked the same things. Her mom would make me dinner once a week — what a shitty cook. I found out Amber was supposed to have gone to France with her senior class — that’s the only reason the stupid hick had a passport. So I stole it.” She shrugged. “She also had a nice sapphire ring. I took that too. She didn’t need it anymore.”

Daphne shook her head. “There really is nothing beneath you.”

“You could never understand. Growing up dirt-poor, with everyone looking down on me, I learned early on that if you want something, you have to get it for yourself. No one’s going to just hand it over.”

“And do you have what you want now?”

“I did at first. Until he found out about my past.” Her earlier bravado was waning. She straightened and looked at Daphne. “If you hadn’t given him that file, I could leave him, get child support and alimony. But if I do, he’ll turn me in.” Her demeanor changed suddenly, and Daphne could almost see the transformation taking place. “Daphne, you know what he’s like. We’re both victims now. You have to help me. You figured out a way to escape. There must be something I could use on him. Is there?” She was the old Amber now; the one Daphne had believed was her friend. She was narcissistic enough to believe that she could still manipulate her.

Daphne looked at her. “Tell me something, honestly: did you ever consider me a friend?”

Amber took Daphne’s hand in hers. “Of course I was your friend. I loved you, Daph. It was just too tempting. I had nothing, and you had everything. Please forgive me. I know what I did was wrong, and I’m sorry. Our children are related. It’s like we are sisters now. You’re a good person. Please, help me.”

“So if I help you, then what? You’ll leave him, and we can go back to being friends again?”

“Yes. Friends again. For Julie and Charlene.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Amber realized her mistake.

“Yeah. For Charlene. Who never existed.” Daphne stood up. “Enjoy your bed, Amber. You’ll be spending lots of time in it. Jackson’s a man of strong appetites.”

Amber scowled at Daphne. “You want to know the truth? I was never your friend. You had all the money, all the power, and you gave me your crumbs. You didn’t even appreciate what you had. All that money he spent on you and your bratty kids. It was obscene. All the while, I was working in his office like a dog.” Her eyes were cold. “I did what I had to do. It was so boring, listening to all your depressing stories. She’s dead! I wanted to scream. No one cares about Julie. She’s been rotting in the ground for twenty years. Let it go.”

Daphne grabbed her wrist and held it tight. “Don’t you ever speak my sister’s name again — do you hear me? You deserve everything you’re getting.” She let go of her. “Take a look around. Try and commit to memory what it was like living the good life, because it’s over now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve come from Jackson’s office. The FBI just took him out of his office in handcuffs. Seems they got access to his offshore accounts. Pity. He never paid taxes on that money. I’m pretty sure when all is said and done, you’ll be lucky if the two of you can afford to live in your old apartment. That is, if they don’t give him jail time, but knowing Jackson, he’ll figure a way out of that. He’ll have to deplete all his resources, of course. Maybe you can help him start a new business.”

“You’re lying.” Her voice was shrill.

Daphne shook her head. “You know that male assistant you made sure he hired so there’d be no funny business at the office? Douglas? Well, he’s an old friend of mine. See, his sister does have CF. Julie’s Smile has been a tremendous help to his family. He’s been spying on Jackson, and he finally got the account numbers he needed to go to the feds. Take a good look around. You may not have all this for long.” She started to walk away, then stopped and turned back. “But at least you still have Jackson.”

Daphne walked out of the house for the last time. As the driver pulled away, she watched as the house receded from sight. How different it looked to her now from when she’d first seen it. Settling back against the seat, she took in, for the last time, the magnificence of each house they passed, and wondered what secrets each of them held. She grew lighter with each passing mile, and when they drove out of the pristine borders of Bishops Harbor, she left the pain and shame she’d lived with while she was still its prisoner behind her. A new life awaited — one where no one terrorized her in the middle of the night or made her pretend to be something she was not. A life where her children would grow up secure and loved, free to be whomever and whatever they desired to be.

She looked up at the sky and imagined her beloved Julie watching from above. She pulled out a pen and the small notepad she kept in her purse and began to write.

Daphne put the notebook in her purse and leaned back. Smiling and looking up, she whispered the Bard’s famous words from that play she and Julie had seen so long ago:

“The king’s a beggar, now the play is done:

All is well ended…