Page 46 of Bitter House

VERA BITTER

By protecting women, I’ve put myself in hell.

I thought by doing the right thing, I was somehow righting my karma for the money my husband’s family has, for the privilege I undoubtedly carry.

Two weeks ago, I found out I saved them only to hurt myself. To tear myself apart at the seams and spread my body across hot coals.

These will be the hardest words I’ll ever write: Christina, my sweet, sweet Chrissy, and Nathan are dead. And it’s all my fault.

Six months ago, a woman came to us. She’d heard about what we do, and she needed us to take care of her husband. By now, we know our names have been passed around. Women come to Jane first, who seems to be able to judge their intentions best, then through the tunnels to Bitter House where we all gather to hear their stories.

We trusted her.

We believed her.

And she lied to us.

I can’t blame her, not really, but I do. I do anyway. She was scared. She was in danger, and now she’s dead. But so is my daughter.

She was afraid, she panicked, and at the last minute, she did what she swore she’d never do. She told her husband the truth. She told him everything—who we are, what we were planning, where to find us. We were supposed to meet them at a restaurant, where I’d drug his drink with a plant from my garden, and we’d take him back to Bitter House to get the job done, but they never showed.

Two weeks ago, Christina was in a car crash that claimed her life. My son-in-law’s life. My world. Bridget only narrowly made it out with her life, but every part of it has been shredded. Her parents are gone, her childhood, her friends. She has moved in with me, and nothing in this world makes sense.

Today, the woman’s husband visited me. He knew my house. Knew my name. Knew everything. He told me what he’d done—that he’d taught me a lesson. He’d followed my daughter and son-in-law and chased them off the road. Left them for dead. He’d killed his wife, too. Made her pay for what she’d nearly done to him.

And as my punishment, he left my entire world shattered. Lily, Jane, and Cate weren’t targeted, and I can only assume it’s because they don’t have any close family. No kids, no spouses. No weaknesses. I’m a public figure. Effortlessly found. Just ask anyone around town, and you’ll easily discover the names of everyone I know and love.

I did this to myself. I wanted too much.

I can’t write more, just the facts. The man is gone. Out there somewhere. But this could happen again. I can’t keep any of them close. Can’t have family for anyone else to find.

Can’t let them believe I care about anyone, myself included.

Honestly, I’m not so sure that’s a lie anymore.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

BRIDGET

Cole stares down at me as if I’ve grown a second head. He bends down, looking at the journal, but doesn’t try to take it from me. “What’s that?”

“Just a book.” I don’t know why I lie, but it’s the first thing that comes out of my mouth, so I go with it.

“You okay?”

“No, actually, I…I need to know something.”

“Okay.”

“What happened to your dad?” I blurt the words out.

He drops to the ground in front of me. “What?”

“Your dad. Where is he?” How much did Vera tell him? Does he know? Has he been lying to me? My world is crumbling.

“Um, I don’t know. He ran off when I was little. Why?”

I swallow. “Really?”

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