Page 83 of Where the Darkness Goes

“Mom would never?—”

“She did.” His voice is firm, then he adds, more softly, “She did, Tessa. I’m so sorry.”

“This is impossible.” And yet, I see it. I feel it in the way I’ve seen Mom look at him, sometimes with disdain, sometimes with love, just like Will said. I see it in the way she gave us stories about our father that never quite added up. Or the way she never wanted to speak about him unless we pushed.

We trusted her.

Just like she trusted him.

Just like Will trusted him.

“So what?” I ask, pacing once more. “What else did Mom say?”

“She…” He looks at Garrett, and my heart sinks. “She told me there were others. Other people Pastor Charles had affairs with. Other kids he fathered.”

Tears sting my eyes because I know what’s coming next. I’m going to be sick as I stare at Garrett, who appears equally ill. “You?”

He drops his head, looking at the ground. “No,” he says eventually, and my entire body goes numb.

“Did you say no?”

“Not me. Not my mom. But when I broke it off, it’s because I couldn’t be sure. I couldn’t ask my mom because I thought she might lie to me about it, and I couldn’t tell you what I suspected and sit in some weird limbo. But I also couldn’t keep seeing you, getting more attached and letting you get more attached, until I knew for certain. Eventually, I did a paternity test without my parents’ knowledge and found out my dad is definitely my father.”

“But why didn’t you tell me once you knew?”

Garrett looks at Will, who clears his throat. “Because we found out something worse than all of this.”

“How can anything be worse than this?”

“He was behind it all,” Garrett says.

“All?” I press.

Will’s heartbreak is evident on his face. He hates telling me this. “He asked other boys in church to steal things, too. I wasn’t the only one. Told them similar things—that wealth was a sin. That the women deserved it. Dalton Steele stole Ella Gray’s china. Mark Summers stole the coin collection from Amber Allen. He had us each steal something, and then, a few days after it was done, he killed the women and girls.”

My knees are weak, and I’m falling to the floor, but Garrett catches me. I didn’t even realize he was so close. He holds me tightly to him as we sink down onto the couch. “Easy does it.”

“You’re lying. Please tell me you’re lying. How could you possibly know this? You know how ridiculous rumors can get here.”

“It’s not a rumor.” His face is etched with pain. “He knew he could make it look like a robbery gone wrong, and no one would ever piece it together because none of us would ever admit what we’d done. Until we did. Until he framed Cory, and I started to wonder how he would’ve had all those pieces and what that would mean. Mark was the first one I figured out because I knew he was close with Amber. He would’ve been an easy choice. From there, we figured out Dalton, and the three of us compared stories. It’s not okay what we did, but it was sick the way he’d manipulated us. The things he said, the way he played with our minds, it really messed me up.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand. “Why wouldn’t you warn me? You left me here, in danger. You left me here, and you knew what he was.Whohe was.”

“I tried,” Will says. “I begged Mom to leave, but she wouldn’t. She said she had to stay, to try and stop him. To take him down from the inside somehow. If I had told you, if you ever let it slip, if you evenlookedat Pastor Charles in a way that made him think you knew, you would’ve been in danger. You could’ve been killed. I had to go. I had to act normal, but I couldn’t bearound Mom. I was mad at her then, for staying here, but also for lying to us about our dad. For taking us to church when she knew the darkest part of this town was standing at the pulpit telling us how to be good.” His upper lip curls. “She knew, and she could’ve done something?—”

“She did,” I argue. “You said she did.”

“Not enough.” He’s bitter. Angry.

“But once I left, someone should’ve told me.”

“I was going to,” Garrett says, drawing my attention to him. His eyes lock with mine with a sort of unexpected fear. “I was going to tell you everything the night you came to visit us after graduation. I knew then that you weren’t my sister. I knew you would be safe if you left, if you came with us, even, but…you were happy.” His eyes flick to Will. “You were getting out. I didn’t want to…” He pauses. “I remember how dark it got for Will during that time, after he found out. When you told me you were happy, I was terrified to ruin that.”

“You were going to tell me?” That truth, that memory, that night—they sit squarely in my chest like a ball of light. What would I have done with that news then? How would I have handled it? How will I handle it now?

“I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I already had,” he says.

“Fine, you thought you couldn’t tell me. But why didn’t you go to the sheriff once you knew?” That’s the part that doesn’t make sense for me. “And why come back here?”

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