Page 66 of Someone Knows

“That’s not true, Ivy. You—”

She holds a hand up, stopping me. “I don’t want to debate it. Whether it’s true or not isn’t the issue. It was how Iperceivedus years ago. I loved you with all my heart, but maybe a part of me would’ve rather been you than me. That’s the only explanation I can come up with, even after all these years.”

“Explanation for what? I’m not following you.”

Ivy’s eyes meet mine once again. “I slept with Mr. Sawyer, too.”

My eyes bulge.“What?”

She starts to ramble, her words coming fast. “You were acting weird, and you wouldn’t tell me why, and one day I saw you riding your bicycle toward the outskirts of town when you’d told me you had to stay in and help your mom, so I followed you. You went to the motel to meet him.” She shakes her head. “I was jealous that a handsome man who was so much older was interested in you, so I wanted to see if I could make himinterested inme.”

I clutch my chest. “Oh my God. Ivy, how could you never tell me?”

“I was embarrassed and ashamed, and it didn’t last that long. I only met him at the motel a few times, and after we finally . . . did it, he smacked me and told me I made noises like a whore. I never went back.”

Tears fill my eyes. “How could you have ever thought I was smarter than you, when you had the sense to not go back? I kept going, Ivy.”

She pulls me into a hug. “I know. And I’m so sorry I didn’t talk to you about it. I swear, I had no idea you were being abused, too, until Sawyer died and you told me what had been going on. I just thought I made noises like a whore. To this day, I’m silent when my husband and I have sex.”

Jesus Christ.That man screwed up so many people. Ivy holds me for a long time before pulling back. She grasps both of my shoulders and looks into my eyes. “I’m so, so sorry I didn’t save you, Elizabeth.”

“Nothing that happened is your fault. You don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry you got sucked into things.”

She sniffles back tears. “I could’ve saved you, and I didn’t.”

I shake my head. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my screwed-up life, it’s that we can only save ourselves.”

Ivy pulls a paper towel from the dispenser and wipes her nose. “It’s a good thing your mama isn’t breathing anymore. Because if she heard you say that, she’d be calling the priest for an exorcism while screaming that onlyGodcan save us.”

Only Ivy could make me laugh during my mother’s wake—after telling me she’s kept a monumental secret from me for twenty years. “You got that right.”

She smiles. “I have to get going. My daughter fell asleep in the car on the way here, so I left my husband with her in the parking lot.”

“Wait. Just give me another minute.” I swallow. There are things I still need to know. “I need to ask you afew questions, and some of them might not make any sense, but your answers are really important.”

“Okay. What?”

“Were you there that night?”

“What night? The night he . . . ?”

I nod. “The night Sawyer died.”

“Of course. You called me upset, and I came to the hotel, helped you make it look like a robbery.”

“Were we the only two people in the room? You and me?”

Her eyes dart around the empty bathroom, even though anyone coming in would’ve had to pass us. “Yes, except forhim.”

“Mr. Sawyer?”

She nods.

I’m relieved to know what I remember about Ivy’s involvement wasn’t made-up. It’s difficult to know what’s real or not after finding out the truth about Jocelyn. I can’t trust my own memory.

“Was I . . . close to Lucas?”

Ivy’s brows furrow. “You were until—well, you started to pull away from both of us toward the end of senior year. I didn’t know why until I found out about you and Mr. Sawyer. But you really liked Lucas before that, and he seemed pretty into you, too. You used to fool around. Why are you asking me this?”

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