Page 20 of No One Can Know

MURDERER. KILLER. PSYCHO.

She found the bags from the hardware store. She pulled on a mask and rubber gloves, and she got to work. The fumes made her eyes water as she scrubbed at the words, watching them surrender to the chemical assault. She started to feel woozy, realized she hadn’t thought to open a window. She yanked it open. The air was as swampy outside as it was inside.

She had outrun this. For a little while. All it had taken was lying to everyone she met. Lying to her husband.

She stripped off the mask. The chemical tang was heavy in the air. She threw the gloves and mask onto the end table nearby. The words were almost gone, but the trace of them remained. You could still read them, if you knew what they said.

She shouldn’t be doing this. It couldn’t be good for the baby. She needed to think of more than just herself. She needed to eat well and sleep andavoid stress, as the doctor had so helpfully suggested, like that was possible.

Emma’s phone rang, startling her. She pulled it out of her pocket. Gabriel’s name glowed on the screen. She hurried to answer, adrenaline coursing through her.

“Hello? Gabriel?” she said, pressing the phone to her ear. What time was it?

“Emma.” A sigh, a silence. “Look. I’m sorry to call so late, but I wanted to tell you… I wasn’t expecting to see you. I thought I could leave the keys and go.”

“It’s okay,” Emma said at once. “I understand. The way we left things…”

“The way you left things, you mean,” Gabriel said. “You took off. You didn’t say a goddamn word.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

“You were right. That doesn’t mean you didn’t owe me an explanation.”

“I never wanted any of it to happen,” Emma told him. “I’m sorry. Sorrier than you can know. I didn’t realize that Ellis was going to try to put it on you. I didn’t know he even knew who youwere.”

“You lied, Emma,” Gabriel said. She shut her eyes. “You told him you were with your sisters that night. And I know you weren’t, because you were with me. You gave yourself an alibi and left me without one.”

“You would have been in trouble if Ellis thought I was with you, too,” Emma said. “You know how many times I told him you weren’t my boyfriend and he didn’t believe me? If he knew I was at your house—in yourbedthat night—”

“You know, if I’ve got to be falsely accused of something I’d rather it be sleeping with you than double murder, actually,” Gabriel said bitterly.

“Gabriel…”

“What?” he asked, voice rough.

Emma looked at the words written on the wall. It didn’t matter how thoroughly she scrubbed, painted, covered them up. They’d always be there. “I was with you that night. But not the whole night. You left.”

“Yeah. I did,” Gabriel said. “But, Emma? So did you.”

Her breath hitched. He knew. He’d figured it out.

The silence stretched. Then Gabriel’s voice came again, steady and calm. “Listen, Emma. I’ve helped out with the house. I didn’t mind doing that. And I can’t stop you from coming back, obviously. But I don’t need you in my life. You only ever fucked things up for me.”

“I never meant for you to get hurt,” she managed. “I only wanted…”

“You wanted to use me against your parents. And they’re gone, so you’ve got no more reason to keep me around, right? Goodbye, Emma. Don’t contact me again.”

The line went dead. She set her phone on the table and staggered towhere she had abandoned her gloves and mask. She pulled them back on. Turned back to the wall. And started again.

Emma dragged herself up the stairs. Her hands felt raw. So did her throat. Her joints and her feet ached. The words were all but gone—would never be gone. The things Gabriel had said, his scarred-over anger, echoed in her ears.

Nathan lay sleeping, sprawled across the top of the covers, stripped down to his briefs. The house didn’t have air-conditioning, and the upstairs was stifling. Emma peeled off her T-shirt and pants and lay on the bed next to him. A finger trailing across his chest woke him; fingertips against his lips stifled his mumbled question.

“You have to believe me,” she whispered, pleading.

“I do. Of course I do,” he said, pulling her close. He kissed her brow; she kissed his throat. Then he was awake, rolling to half pin her against the bed, his hands and lips on her skin. They moved with more desperation than desire, as if this could be the proof they needed, the proof they wished they could give.

With Nathan’s cheek pressed against her stomach, her fingers playing in his hair, Emma said, “How can you be sure?”

---