Page 37 of The Followers

“I always called her Ella, so that’s what I wrote down. That whole year is kind of a blur. I was twenty-four years old and suddenly I had full responsibility for a one-year-old child.”

It made sense—Scott’s reluctance to talk about his past, his refusal to discuss Ella’s mother, the way he always worried things were going to fall apart.

“It wasn’t your fault her mother died,” Molly said.

He shrugged. His face was shadowed in the evening light, and the lines around his eyes and mouth seemed deeper. This was painful for him to talk about, she could tell. He blamed himself, and he worried she would blame him, too.

“If I hadn’t called social services, Kris wouldn’t have taken off; she wouldn’t have escalated her drinking and drug use. Anyway, you know what happened after.”

She did. He’d moved across the United States, living out of the Westfalia, working odd jobs until he’d settled with Ella in Durango four years ago.

“I feel awful for putting that picture in Ella’s room,” she said.

“No, you were right. Ella deserves to know more about her mom. But listen, I don’t want her to know we weren’t together. And I definitely don’t want Ella to know she overdosed.”

Molly couldn’t blame him, but he couldn’t keep the truth from his daughter forever. “Just because you don’t talk about it doesn’t mean she doesn’t wonder,” she said, hoping she wasn’t overstepping. “She’s too afraid to ask, thinking she’ll upset you.”

He nodded, and she could see her words sinking in. “I know. I need to figure out how to talk to her about it.”

A rush of tenderness came over Molly, for the way he’d cared for Ella when most young men his age would have walked away. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Thanks for telling me. And I’m sorry I snooped.”

He kissed the top of her head, and she could feel his relief, the tension melting from his body. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I’m too used to being on my own. Thanks for being patient with me.”

She smiled and kissed him. Just like she told her followers, vulnerability could be painful sometimes, but it was always worth it.

eighteen

I have good news and bad news, Sam.

The bad news: turns out Kristina’s sister isn’t easy to locate. She attended the University of Pittsburgh, then worked at three different temp jobs in Maryland, Florida, and Nebraska, respectively. But after that, I lost her. She doesn’t leave much of a trail online.

Unlike your wife.

That’s the good news. For me, anyway. You’ll probably disagree.

Your wife is my bird in the hand. Though you might not have that key anymore, my guess is that you do. It seems very in character for you to hold on to something like that. Not because you feel sentimental about it. Because you feel guilty.

So, I just booked my flights to Durango.

Watch out, Sam. I’m coming.

nineteen

I firmly believe you have to approach each first date with the thought that this could be IT. This person could be MY person. This night could be the start of my forever. I reject the idea that we should protect our hearts from the risk of disappointment. What’s more disappointing than our own failure to hope?

@InvincibleMollySullivan

Liv stood in front of her mirror, fussing with her outfit. She hadn’t been on a date in years, so she didn’t have many date-worthy clothes, and she had no idea what kind of a date this was going to be. Jeremiah had only said he would pick her up at seven o’clock for dinner.

The past week had dragged. Liv had heard from the detective she’d emailed, but all he’d said was that he would look into it, and get back to her. She’d checked her email at least fifteen times a day since then, but nothing.

Oliver hadn’t gotten any closer to driving to Pittsburgh to open Kristina’s safe deposit box, and there didn’t seem to be much point in Liv sending the required documentation—a notarized letter and copy of her driver’s license—until he did. His lack of urgency was making Liv crabby and frustrated; whenever she texted him about it, he’d respond with a gif of someone rolling their eyes, which just made her more irritated. She knew there probably wasn’t anything of value in there, but she still didn’t want the state to end up with Kristina’s possessions, which meant he had to open the safe deposit box before the end of the summer.

The date with Jeremiah was a welcome distraction from all of that.

Liv finally settled on a simple cotton skirt, high-heeled sandals, and a white sleeveless shirt. Her hair was its usual dark, low-maintenance pixie, but she put on some lipstick and a quick brush of mascara.

As she finished, there was a knock at her door. She swallowed, told herself to relax, and went to open it.

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