Page 100 of Castle

My heart pounded with that information. “What?”

“My mother did not write this one.” To prove his theory, he pointed at the letter ‘C’ in the journal and the ‘C’ in the file where Aster had written some things. “Look, the letter ‘C’ is written differently in both.”

Castle was right.

“Do you know what this means?” He looked at me, pain etched in his features, “It means Chris and his wife wrote this journal to make it look like my mom packed and left. They even got it written by some professional copycat who wrote this in an identical hand. My mom would never leave us. She was murdered.”

“Oh god!” I slumped onto the bed.

“Do you also want to know how I found her?”

The question was, though, did I want to put Castle through the trauma again?

Could I stomach the gruesome details of the murder?

From the looks of it, whatever that had happened wasn’t pretty, and I didn’t think I had the guts to learn.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what they had done. I suspected it, but...how could someone be so vicious?!”

“My family.” He answered, “Listen, about the divorce. The offer still stands.”

“You think I want a divorce?”

“I will take them down, with or without you.” His voice became a murmur, “It’s going to get ugly and I wouldn’t hold anything against you if you want out.”

“I want to see this end. I’m not leaving you.”

Castle was busy in the next few days. I hardly saw him—he left for the company, and when he returned, he spent his time in the study. I avoided going there because I didn’t want to disturb him.

I was curled up on the single leather couch under the blanket with a book in my hand. I was trying to read it, but my mind kept going to Castle. I would always fall asleep before he made it home. Today, I was adamant about not sleeping. I was going to wait for my husband.

There was a knock on the door. Why was he knocking?

I placed the book aside. “Come in.”

I was giddy at the thought of seeing him.

Until Dayana walked in.

She looked shaken. “Millie.”

She never so much as paid attention to me, and she’d always gotten sadistic pleasure from seeing me get hurt, so I was not buying into her cry-baby demeanor.

I placed the book aside. “What do you want?”

She shut the door behind her and closed the distance between us. “Millie, I know you hate me and you have good reason to, but please, you need to listen to me.”

I remained silent.

“You need to speak to Castle; he can put an end to this. Tell him to talk it out with Devin. We are no longer enemies. We can co-exist in this house. I will make Devin understand.”

My anger was ricocheting through these walls. This evil incarnate was acting like a victim.

“Dayana, I don’t know what weed you’ve been smoking to think I’m going to be moved by your tears, but it’s not working. Devin almost got us killed, remember? We survived an attempted murder. Castle and I were wounded and on the ground with no one to help us for miles. You put us in that situation knowing we wouldn’t make it out alive, and you want me to forgive you?”

“I know what we did, and it’s understandable. I’m so, so sorry for everything.”

Didn’t I want this before?

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