Page 118 of Begin Again

Aubrey’s knuckles are white as they grip the glass, her expression taut. Her eyes dart between us, looking for a way out of the conversation. She forces a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says lightly, though her voice wavers just enough to betray her unease.

A tight coil builds inside me, my hands clench into fists on the blanket. The audacity. The sheer, disgusting audacity of this woman—sitting here, pretending to be fragile, pretending to be the victim, while the people she’s destroyed are still bleeding from wounds she inflicted. Gabriel. Theo’s parents. Her first husband. How many more?

Morgan doesn’t give her the chance to regroup. She leans forward, her tone deceptively casual. “Don’t you? Because it seems like you remember a lot about that day. Your memory seems to be doing much better than it was after he died. Like how you just so happened to bring Gabriel lunch while he dealing with a major stressor. Almost like you knew he’d need a distraction.”

Aubrey’s lips part, but no words come out. She blinks rapidly, as if trying to keep up. “I was being a good wife,” she says finally, her voice defensive. “I brought him lunch all the time! Is that a crime now?”

A crime? My pulse pounds in my ears. She says it so casually like she hasn’t left a trail of bodies in her wake.

“No, of course not,” Theo cuts in, his tone calm and measured, though I can feel the tension radiating off him. I know him. I know what he looks like when he’s barely holding himself together. His fingers twitch against his knee, his jaw tight, his breathing measured but forced.

My heart aches for him. For the fact that he has to sit here, face-to-face with a woman who stole people from him, and pretend like he’s not burning alive inside.

“But…” Theo tilts his head, studying her. “You knew he was stressed. You knew someone was looking into you. And you didn’t think to ask why?”

Her eyes widen slightly, and she shakes her head. “No! I—I didn’t know anything about that. Gabriel never said anything. He was probably just being paranoid.”

“Paranoid?” I echo, arching a brow. “About someone digging into your past? Your late husband’s autopsy?”

Aubrey flinches as if struck, her composure cracking further. “That’s not fair,” she says, her voice breaking. “Gabriel was under a lot of pressure. He was probably imagining things.”

I see red.

I think of Gabriel, of his kindness, of how much he meant to Mo. To Theo. To this town. I think of all the lives shattered because of her, of the people who will never come back.

“Was he?” Morgan presses, her tone sharp now, cutting straight through the illusion Aubrey’s trying to weave. “Or did he stumble onto a truth you didn’t want him to find?”

Aubrey’s breath catches, and for a moment, she looks genuinely shaken. Then, as if flipping a switch, her eyes brim with tears, and her lip trembles. “I can’t believe you’re accusing me of this,” she chokes out, her voice thick with emotion. “After everything I’ve been through. I loved Gabriel. He was my world. How can you sit there and twist this into something so ugly?”

She’sgood. The trembling shoulders, the choked sobs, the broken, grieving widow act—it’s flawless. If I didn’t know better, I might have believed her.

But Idoknow better.

Because I see Theo’s fists clenching. I see the way Morgan’s nostrils flare, her face unreadable but her body taut like a coiled wire.

She presses a hand to her chest, her shoulders shaking as another sob escapes her. “He’s gone. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To lose the love of your life and then have the people you care about turn on you?” Her voice cracks, and she hides her face in her hands, her sobs muffled.

Theo, Morgan, and I exchange a glance, silently agreeing to stay the course.

“You’re right,” I say softly, my tone laced with sympathy. “It’s horrible. Losing someone like that…it’s unimaginable.” My throat tightens, my heart hammering against my ribs. Theo knows that pain. Mo knows that pain.And it’s because of you.As much as I want to confront her with those five words, we need to ease into it.

Theo leans in slightly, his voice steady despite the storm that’s clearly raging inside him. “You’re not the only one who lost him, Aubrey. We all did. And we deserve to know the truth.”

Her sobs hitch, and she looks up, her tear-streaked face a mask of anguish. “The truth?” she whispers. “The truth is that I loved him. I would’ve done anything for him. And now he’s gone, and you’re sitting here trying to tear me apart.”

Morgan crosses her arms, her gaze unyielding. “We’re not trying to tear you apart, Aubrey. We’re just trying to understand. Because some things don’t add up. Like how you brought him sweet tea that day. And how he died of cyanide poisoning. Such a strange coincidence, don’t you think?”

Silence.

Aubrey freezes, her eyes locking on Morgan. For a split second, her mask slips, and a cold glint flashes in her gaze before she quickly looks away. “I—I didn’t know. I had no idea,” she stammers, her voice quivering.

Theo leans forward, his voice low and steady. “Didn’t you? You didn’t know that elderberries are toxic when they’re not prepared properly? Or that it can cause cyanide poisoning—even death?”

Her hands tremble as she sets her glass down. And just like that, the act is over.

The sobbing stops. The trembling lip disappears.

And when she looks up, her face is blank, her eyes cold and calculating.

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