Page 186 of No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding

I was wrapped up in myself, so I never saw this coming.

Murder times three.

“Do you think they’ll confess?” Oliver asks me. We’re standing on the balcony of our villa, looking out at the ocean. It’s early, the sun just rising, and the storm has finally passed.

The literal storm, not the theoretical one.

Is there a difference at this point?

“Does it matter?” I say, then lean my head against his shoulder. He feels warm, and I’m cold inside.

Something in me feels dead.

Maybe it’s my optimism.

That things will work out. That there’s a solution just around the corner.

But don’t worry. I’ve already told you I don’t feel things for nearly as long as I should.

“I would’ve thought you’d want to know how it all came together,” Oliver says.

“Right?”

“So, why don’t you?”

“I’m tired. Three people are dead. Harper’s heart is broken. Take your pick.”

“And Emma’s?”

“Hers, too.”

He squeezes me to him and we stare at the surf. It’s high, thewaves crashing into the bay. Gulls are squealing and circling above the water, diving in, looking for something. Food, I guess. You can’t fish during a hurricane. They must be hungry.

“You know,” I say, “I’m starting to have met an awful lot of murderers.”

“All the way back to high school.”

“She was so popular in high school. How did she get from that to murder?”

“A lot of attention is never good for anyone.”

I smile. “I’ve always thought there were two kinds of people. Those who want to go back to high school and those who don’t.”

“And which are you?”

“High school was a nightmare.”107

“So, no high school then?”

“Oh, no, I’d go back.”

He bursts out laughing. “Why?”

“Look at what I’ve accomplished. Those bitches would be jealous.”

“What bitches?”

“All the bitches who told me I wasn’t pretty enough or thin enough or smart enough.”

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