Page 46 of The Followers
“You can request a copy of the case file, if you’d like,” Rasband continued. “I let Granzinelli know you might want to see it for yourself.”
Liv nodded. Oliver would probably like to see it, as well. “Thank you,” she said.
They ended the call, and she hugged her knees to her chest, so stunned she could barely breathe. Her body felt weak, as if her anger toward Sam Howard had been the only thing keeping her intact. Without it, she wasn’t sure how she would stay upright.
And not just anger toward Sam, she realized. Years of blaming herself for not warning her sister that Sam was on his way. So many nights she’d lain awake and replayed her decision to go back to sleep. So many nights spent drowning in guilt.
If it hadn’t been Sam’s fault, that meant it hadn’t been her fault, either. Her vision blurred with tears. She ought to talk to Ollie about all this, but she would do that later. Right now, she knew only one way to process her feelings.
She needed to run.
It took five miles of near sprinting before Liv was able to settle into an easier stride. She’d let her tears flow freely until they seemed to dry up. The morning sun slanted between the homes in the quiet neighborhood as she turned, heading toward the hills.
Everything had changed. Beyond the obvious—that Sam Howard, now Scott Wander, wasn’t a murderer—he had quite possibly saved Gabriela’s life. If he hadn’t been there that night, if he hadn’t taken his daughter away, who knows what could have happened to her.
And what about Gran? Her refusal to communicate had left Liv and Oliver—two scared, grieving teenagers—to concoct their own story. But Liv’s anger toward her grandmother had begun to slip away, too. Gran had done her best. Her daughter had been in prison, her granddaughter brutally murdered, her great-granddaughter missing. Yet she’d still managed to put one foot in front of the other, taking care of Liv and Oliver’s physical needs, if not their emotional ones.
Now that Liv knew the truth, what should she do? She’d spent the past nine years hating Sam Howard, desperate to find Gabriela. Without that... she wasn’t sure who she was anymore.
Rounding a corner, she headed onto a trail, slowing her speed to navigate loose rocks. The one thing she still felt certain of was this: she wanted Gabriela in her life.
If she walked up to Sam Howard—to Scott Wander—and introduced herself, what would he do? He’d been on the run for nine years. He might take off again, or order Liv to stay away from them. Liv supposed that she could put up some kind of legal fight for Gabriela; as far as she knew, Sam was not on Gabriela’s birth certificate. Kristina had refused, even when Sam came to the hospital. At the time, Liv had thought her sister was being brave and independent; now, a small part of her wondered if Kristina had been too stubborn.
Still, Sam had run off with Gabriela and stolen a large sum of money from a charity. She could turn him in for that. She could hire an attorney, make a case for custody. But how would that help Gabriela, to be torn away from her only surviving parent? Liv knew the pain of growing up without a stable home and family. The last thing she wanted was for her niece to experience that.
And yet, the thought of leaving Gabriela, of never seeing her again, made Liv ache with longing. At the very least, she needed to make sure that Gabriela was happy and cared for.
Slowing her pace, Liv took her phone out of her armband and pulled up the text messages from Molly Sullivan. Liv hadn’t responded to any of them so far. The latest text had come in last night, and Liv had ignored it, too. Now she stared at the words, realizing what they meant. The possibility they held.
Going to the farmer’s market tomorrow with the girls. Want to join us?
Liv didn’t allow herself to think, to consider the consequences, as she typed a reply and pressed send.
Sure. What time?
Awesome!!! Eleven o’clock?
After a few back-and-forth messages to figure out a meeting spot, it was arranged. Liv tucked her phone in her armband, noticing that her hands were shaking. Oliver would probably think it was reckless to meet up with Molly again. But once she told him everything she’d learned from Rasband, he would understand. Now that Liv had met Ella, the last remaining piece of Kristina, she couldn’t walk away. She needed to see her.
Just one more time, she promised herself. That’s all.
With that newfound resolution, she set out again on her run. But as she came up the sidewalk toward her door, she stopped. Someone was sitting on her front step. Someone with messy brown hair, wearing running clothes and running shoes, turning to look at her with smiling eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she said, hands on hips. The warm morning breeze blew through her clothes, making her skin prickle into goosebumps.
“Waiting for you.” Jeremiah just smiled, as if he hadn’t stood on her doorstep last night, uncomfortable and distant after an epic make-out session on a mountaintop.
She dropped her hands. “I’m really confused.”
The understatement of the century.
“Why?” he said.
“I got the impression you didn’t want to spend any more time with me after last night.”
“Well, that’s...” He hesitated, the laughter fading from his eyes, leaving a different expression behind—open and earnest. “That’s because I think I could really like you.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing.”