Page 76 of The One Before

“Madison?” I immediately recognize Bailey’s voice.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I say, slumping onto the sofa.

“Is it true?” she asks, her voice low. “Did he confess?”

“Yes. I don’t know much beyond that.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m getting there,” I say. “I’m leaving town. Not sure when I’ll be back.”

“Can’t say I blame you.” She lets out a deep breath. “Have you talked to anyone else?”

“Just you. That’s why I’m leaving. Not sure I’m up to dealing with his family just yet.”

“Tell me about it. Regina is on her way over here right now. As you can imagine, she’s a wreck.”

“I’m guessing she doesn’t know you were involved in any of this?”

“It’ll be an ugly conversation when she finds out. She loves Cooper, but she also has a clear sense of right and wrong. She’ll come around.”

I hate that the Douglases will be hurt in all this, but these are repercussions of Coop’s actions, not mine. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

“Thank you for helping me,” I tell Bailey, ending the conversation.

There’s a knock at the door. I look out the front window and see Josephine. She’s swaying from side to side, rubbing her face with her hands. Seeing her grief reminds me of Helena. They’ve both experienced the unthinkable, losing their children in drastically different ways. As much as I want to ignore her, I can’t.

“Oh, thank God,” she says when I open the door. She runs into the house. “I didn’t know where else to go. Roman took off and Regina’s not answering her phone.”

“I’m so sorry, Josephine.” I’m not sure how much she knows, but none of it can be good. She breaks into sobs. I sit beside her, rubbing her back.

“I don’t understand any of this. They think he killed some Laura from college? I barely remember her.” The sorrow in her voice is audible. I’m in pain just listening.

“I’m sure we’ll get more details in the weeks to come.”

“They’re saying someone turned him in,” she says, jerking her head. Her makeup is smeared in the creases around her eyes. “It doesn’t make sense. This is like the Celia fiasco all over again. They’re framing him.”

There’s much to this story she doesn’t know, and I’m not the person who should tell her. Still, I think she needs to understand the arrest was based on more than just speculation. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Josephine,” I say, genuine tears forming. “Coop confessed tonight.”

“Confessed?” She scoots away and looks at me like I just called her a slur. This doesn’t make sense to her. “He confessed to killing someone?”

“That’s what they told me when I left the station.” I stand and walk toward the fireplace; it’s too painful being close to her.

“There must be a mistake. I sent a lawyer—”

“He turned down representation.”

“Then that shows he’s clearly not in his right mind. Confessions are coerced all the time. I’ll have to get the right people on it, but I’m sure we can get it thrown out. Once I find out the details—”

“What if he’s telling the truth?” I ask, cutting her off. I’m sorry that she’s mourning her son, but I think it would be cruel to let her create these impossible scenarios in her head.

“Madison,” she begins, calmly, “he can’t be telling the truth. This is Cooper we’re talking about. He’s not capable of hurting someone.”

I look at her, trying hard not to break. “I don’t know who he was back then. All I know is what he’s told me and what he’s told the police. I’m sorry.”

She stares at me, nodding. She looks around the room and spies my luggage by the staircase. “Are you leaving?”

“I think it’s best I go back to the city.”

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