Page 202 of One Big Little Secret

“That’s not an answer,” I say. I stride to the mantel because I can’t sit down. Not again. Sitting feels likewaitingand the last thing I want to do right now is waste time. “Will you guys tell me what happened while I was gone?”

Dexter and Archer glance at each other.

“It’s Mom’s jewelry,” Dex says, and Mom starts crying into her hands. Junie’s eyes glisten as she wraps an arm around Mom’s shoulders, fumbling in her pocket for a packet of tissues.

I feel nothing. I’m too hollowed out.

“She stole it,” I guess flatly.

“All the expensive stuff,” Archer says. “The antiques, the one-of-a-kind pieces…”

In other words, all the shit Mom owns that’s actually worth something. Not just money, but memories, some stretching back longer than we’ve been alive.

She had a few of her grandma’s old pieces appraised a while back and it came back north of a million.

Fucking hell.

I feel something now.

The kind of slow, killing rage that torches every good thing inside me.

And itfeelsgood to be this angry at someone besides myself, besides Salem, because that anger’s incomplete and muddled.

This is different.

This is a death vow.

With Evelyn, I want to tear her grinning, lying face off.

“I’m still in disbelief. I just can’t believe she could do this. I feel so violated,” Mom strangles out, wiping her eyes as Junie hands her a tissue. “My oldest friend, and for no reason…”

“Shhh, Delly,” Junie says. “She must have had a reason, even if it was a terrible one.” She looks pleadingly at Dexter, but for once he has nothing to add. No quip, no wisecrack, no assurances.

He’s usually good at reassurances, but I guess that’s one more thing Evelyn stole away.

“I invited her into my home. I thought she valued myfriendship. She watched you boys grow up.” Mom moans into her hand, biting her knuckle as she looks at me. “Was it always all a lie?”

I don’t know.

Her husband certainly fished me out of the lake before I drowned. I don’t remember much about that day, but I know he saved my life.

Evelyn, she just stood around in a panic. Was it in her head somewhere then?

Did she see us as easy pickings if she ever needed a lifeline? Was there already a heartless vulture inside her, waiting for a fresh carcass?

Or did it change when her husband, Walt, died? When grief ate her soul like that hungry crocodile in Egyptian mythology?

“It’s not your fault,” Archer says, his voice low and angry, gunning every word. “She lied to us. All of us.”

“Butwhy?” Mom wails. “Why, Archer?”

“Because she could, Mom.” My voice is a sword. Everyone in the room looks at me. Maybe I shouldn’t state the obvious. “You showed her the jewelry years ago, didn’t you? You two shared everything. Did she know about the appraisal?”

Weeping, Mom pinches her eyes shut and nods painfully.

“Yeah. She knew we had money and she needed it. That’s enough. That’s the entire fucking reason.”

“Language, Patton,” she snaps. “Your father raised us better. We can’t panic and go to pieces now.”

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