Page 51 of A Killing Cold

Alexis needs a friend right now. I can’t afford to be one.

“Your father was going to leave,” I say slowly, carefully. She wets her lips again, a compulsive gesture. I’m not quite right. But what could she mean?

“My father,” she says. Stops. Then, “You can’t tell Connor I said that. Or Mom. They don’t know.”

“They know about the affair,” I say. “Except that’s not what you meant.”

My heartbeat is perfectly steady. My voice is soft and gentle.You can tell me. You can trust me.

But her expression shutters. “It was a long time ago,” she says. “Whatever he did doesn’t matter anymore.”

There are deep shadows under her eyes, almost bruise-like. Her entire body tells a story of deprivation—deprived of food, of sleep, of slowing down for even a moment.

That kind of control craves release.

“I can’t imagine how hard it must have been. Especially being the oldest,” I say. “You were old enough to understand what was going on.”

“Understand? No, I didn’t understand. I never understood how he could do that,” she says. “And we couldn’t talk about it. None of us. Had to keep it quiet. We wouldn’t want to embarrass the family. To humiliate Mom. So just carry it and don’t tell anyone and just live with the fact that…” Her face screws up.

“Alexis?” I say softly, so gently that I hate myself for it. I tell her with my words and the way I lean toward her and the hand I put out to touch her knee lightly that she’s safe with me.

“He didn’t fall,” she whispers. And then all at once she pulls inward—shoulders retracting, head coming up sharply, teeth clicking together.

My lips part, beginning to shape a question.

The door opens, and she jerks, guilt flashing over her face as Connor steps in.

“Alexis,” he says, startled.

What does she mean, he didn’t fall?

“Connor, hey.” She stands, setting her drink on the table beside her, smoothing down her clothes. “Summit already done?”

“I just stuck around long enough to make sure Mom was okay,” Connor says. I watch Alexis.

Does she mean he was pushed?

Mallory, I think. She did something to him. She had to run. It makes sense.

Except that Alexis was talking about somethingLiamdid. Said that he left them.

My mother was hurt. And then—what? I hid; Liam Dalton found me; he died. I ended up somewhere else entirely. But what happened to my mother?

What happened to Liam?

He didn’t fall.

Meaning, his death wasn’t an accident.

So Mallory is hurt, but she gets up and—

How he could leave us like that.

I’ve been avoiding putting the pieces together, following the logic. My mother was afraid. We tried to run, but it was too late. She was hurt.Killed, I force myself to think, because nothing else makes sense. And I hid, but I was found. By Liam Dalton, a man whose face still haunts my nightmares.

Whatever happened, it was a scandal big enough that the Daltons would want to cover it up. To tell a story about a storm and a roof and a fall, a good man taken too soon. A story that made no mention of an affair, a vanished girl, a woman who seemed to not exist at all anymore, as far as the world was concerned.

“What the fuck was Trevor thinking?” Connor asks. I blink, startled at how few seconds have passed.

---