Page 156 of The Silent Note

“I mean it, Sol. Call me right away if you lose her.”

“We’ll keep your wife safe, Zane.” He pauses. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I’ll update you guys later.”

Tossing the phone, I get the car into gear and blast out of Redwood.

My sneakers thump the ground as I stalk into the house dad shares with Marion. Or, more accurately, the house Marion shares with herself. Dad is as much of a ghost to her as Sloane is to Grey.

My eyes track to the staircase that leads to Grey’s room. I remember walking up those stairs and catching her in the shower. With her curls all wet and water dripping down her perfect face to her perfect body, I wanted to kiss her so badly it felt like I was on drugs.

That day she was a forbidden secret. A longing, a quiet poison seeping in my chest. And to her, I was a filthy secret that she was desperately trying to scrub out of her life.

Now she’s my wife.

Now I’m her husband.

Now there’s so much at stake.

The house is deathly silent.

Dad’s car wasn’t in the garage and neither was Marion’s. I came here after seeing dad’s studio was empty. Now I’m not sure where to look. Despite all the ways dad knows us, there’s still a world of secrets surrounding him.

Something thuds behind me.

I turn around to see Marion at the front door. The bag of groceries she was carrying is on the ground. Apples and oranges roll across the floor, streaking past me like colorful tumbleweeds. A bag of meat seeps water and blood at her feet.

Silence screams louder than a banshee.

We stare at each other.

The two of us.

Different and yet connected.

She’s the woman who loves Grey more than life.

I’m the man who loves Grey to death.

My brain searches for a joke I can make, an easygoing topic of conversation. Marion was kind to me when we were living here.

But now she’s hard as ice.

I can’t think of anything to break the silence.

Her fingers dig into her purse. “Should I say welcome home? I don’t want to.”

No, I doubt she would.

My gaze snaps down her outfit, looking for a crack somewhere underneath the expensive blazer and flashy jewelry.

“It’s been a long time. You look well,” I say politely.

“I look…” She barks out a tight, bitter laugh. A second later, her purse goes flying at me.

I don’t dodge it, not like I did with Gloria’s playful hits in the kitchen. The purse thunks against my shoulder and tumbles to the ground.

I don’t flinch, even if it hurts.

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