Page 49 of A Killing Cold

Had Rose filed for divorce? Or intended to, perhaps, but never got the chance? Connor has never hinted at problems between his parents, but he was only a child, after all. He might not have known.

Paloma suddenly gives a little shake. She picks up Sebastian, holding him on her hip. “I’ll be in the cabin,” she says curtly, and departs with quick strides, not bothering to grab her coat.

“Whatisthis?” Alexis says.

Secrets, I think. The private things we live our lives pretending no one knows.

Magnus takes the photograph from her. He looks down at it for a long moment, then says, “This is nothing.”

“Nothing? Someone put these here,” Alexis says in alarm.

Louise’s eyes bore holes through me. I shrink back, pulse fluttering at my throat. It occurs to me that my own secrets might be hanging on that tree somewhere, but I quell the frantic urge to search. I can’t give them reason to suspect.

“Call Irina. Have her clean this up,” Magnus tells his wife.

“I think it’s clear what happened here,” Louise says, ignoring him.

“Is it?” Rose says with a swallowed laugh. “Because it isn’t clear to me.”

“It’s her,” Louise says, jabbing a finger in my direction. “She’s done this.”

I let out a disbelieving sound. “Me? I don’t even know—” I start.

“She didn’t do this,” Connor says, coming around the side of the tree. “And unless you have any proof to the contrary—”

“Louise,” Magnus says simply. He nods toward the doorway that leads to the living room. Standing there, hands in his pockets, is Trevor. For once he isn’t smiling that smug smile. His expression is empty, and behind it is a void more dangerous than anger.

“I know what I did,” he says. “But you’re all acting like I’m the only one who ever did something wrong. Fuck you. All of you, but especially you, Alexis. At least I hurt someone by accident.”

Alexis stares at him. And then her eyes widen and she whips around to the other side of the tree, searching. “Shit,” she says. “You—” There’s fury in her eyes, and she steps toward her brother—and then lets out a sound of frustration and wheels back the other way, running after Paloma.

Everyone is talking all at once. Yelling at Trevor, mostly. I walk around to see what it is that Alexis saw. That Paloma saw.

It’s a photo taken in a dark room—a bar or a club. The flash washes out the faces of the two women in it. Alexis, caught mid-blink, wearing a low-cut top and perching in the lap of another woman. It looks recent. Too recent to be innocent.

Ignoring the clamor of voices, I take the ornament from the tree and turn it over, twisting the tabs that hold the back in place. I pinch the photo free and tear it into tiny pieces before tucking them into my pocket.

No one else needs to see that. Trevor’s done his damage already.

My eyes scan the tree, searching for my own name, my own face. If it’s here—

“Theo?” It’s Connor, his hand touching my elbow lightly. “You should go back to the cabin.”

I look over. Trevor is standing slumped back against the doorframe,eyes fixed on the ground, expression equal parts angry and stubborn. Tears glisten on Rose’s cheeks.

This has nothing to do with me.

“I’ll see you soon?” I say, but he barely manages a distracted nod. I make my escape swiftly. Part of me is glad to get away from what will follow. Part of me is stuck on thinking about what secrets there might have been nestled among those branches, if I knew how to pick them apart.

Rose, filing for divorce. A car accident. A meeting. There had been other ornaments I didn’t see as well. Trevor had been planning this for a while.

I’m halfway to the cabin when I spot Alexis. She’s leaning against a tree, her arms crossed, staring at nothing. She looks up at my approach. Her eyes are red and watery.

“Hey,” I say softly, like you’d talk to a spooked animal. “Are you okay?”

“Paloma asked me to leave,” she says.

“Leave, like—”

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