Page 87 of The New Year's Party
She stumbled on a stair and Will caught her arm.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said with a growl of frustration, and then she let out a strangled sound and came even harder. They were most of the way up the stairs when she raised her hand to slap him.
She’d done it so many times before, this exact angle of arm and hand. Will’s reaction was instinctive. Except he didn’t just raise his arm to protect himself. He flung his arm out like a weapon to knock her away.
And he did knock her away.
Not just her hand—her entire body.
Will’s arm caught her in the face. Her nose sprouted blood. She was always one for nosebleeds, and as blood spewed, wetting the handrails, the stairs, and her, she fell backward. Her arms windmilled. There was a moment when Will saw the fear in her eyes—a strange, dull, animal fear—and he reached forward to grab her. He was too late.
She arced back, hitting her head on the stairs with a dullthump, then sliding down the last few treads like a broken doll. Her nose kept on gushing unbelievable amounts of blood.
He didn’t yell. At first, he didn’t even react. He just stood at the top of the stairs, not understanding what he was seeing. Not believing that his own hand had just struck his wife across the face and sent her plummeting to her death.
There was a small noise behind him.
Hellie, standing in the door, which he had left open, with a gun in her hand.
That galvanized him.
“Help me! Jenn is hurt!” Will cried, even though in his heart of hearts he knew she wasn’t hurt at all. She was dead, and he had just killed her. They both ran down the stairs. Will lifted Jenn under the armpits and pulled. Her legs dragged uselessly behind her. “Help me get her on the couch!”
But Hellie was shaking her head. “No, Will. Stop. Put her down.”
Will laid her gently down. Hellie came forward and felt for a pulse. When she stood up again, he knew for sure.
“We have to call 9–1–1,” he said.
“No!” said Hellie. “We have to get away from here. Right now.”
“Where?” Will’s brain felt hot, foggy.
“Upstairs. No one saw us.”
“But...”
“We have to get out of here and wash our hands.”
“But—but—” He reached for his phone. Hellie grabbed his wrist.
Her voice was fierce. “You have kids, Will. I don’t. I’ve always wanted kids, I wanted to be a mom more than anything, do you understand me? But I don’t get to have them, and you do. Three precious girls. You’re not thinking clearly, so I’m going to think for you. When you have kids, you do whatever you have to, to keep them safe. When you have kids,you bend whatever rules you have to bend so that you can be with them and raise them and love them with everything you’ve got. Your kids are a gift, Will, the greatest gift you’ll ever have in this life, and you being their dad istheirgreatest gift, and don’t let me ever catch you taking that for granted again.”
Her chest was heaving.
Her eyes were liquid fire.
She nodded once.
Will nodded back.
He’d never heard Hellie say so much all at once. The power of her words operated like a tether. Will followed her upstairs like a lamb.
No one saw them. Will cleaned up first in the little bathroom, then went into the bedroom he and Jenn were supposed to share with Bennett and Olivia and closed the door. Hellie washed her hands while he lay there staring at the ceiling. At one point, he heard Doug shouting and stomping around, but he stayed put, unable to think a single clear thought. He kept seeing Jenn’s eyes in her last seconds of life. Looking at Will with mute terror in the split second before gravity did its work. Hearing Hellie’s voice say,Youbend whatever rules youhave tobend.
Hellie finally joined him, closing and locking the door, and as Will lay on the air mattress, she quietly explained everything in her calm little voice. Jenn would have Hellie’s DNA under her fingernails, so Hellie wouldn’t be a good witness in Will’s defense. It might seem like they had both ganged up on Jenn. It would be better to say that Will went to lie down after Hellie accidentally broke a glass against his head when she was toasting. Since she was the responsible one, she was playing nurse. They would alibi each other. The whole time she was talking, they could hear Doug thumping around in the room right next door.
“Okay,” he whispered.
