Chapter 15
My throat tightened.
“Did he mention Grace?”
“Several times.”
“What did he say?”
“That she would love the piano. That he wanted to see her face when she found it.”
I turned toward the window.
“He knew?”
“He knew he was supposed to pick her up. He wrote it in his calendar.”
“Then why did he forget?”
Daniel’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“Ms. Carter called him that afternoon.”
“What did she say?”
“I don’t know.”
“You saw him after the call.”
“Yes.”
“What was he like?”
“Distracted. He said he needed to make sure the surprise was perfect.”
“For Olivia?”
“Yes.”
The answer settled heavily between us.
When we reached the hotel, Alexander was waiting in a private conference room on the top floor.
He wore a dark suit without a tie. His face looked thinner than it had three weeks earlier, and there were shadows beneath his eyes.
He took one step toward me.
I lifted a hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
“I’m not going to touch you.”
“I know.”
His gaze moved to the handbag in my hand. “You brought the letter.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you find it?”
“In Grace’s box.”
“I still don’t understand how it got there.”
“Neither do I.”
Daniel closed the door behind us.
The room had glass walls overlooking the city. Chicago spread beneath us in steel and winter light.
Alexander stood by the table.
“I asked Olivia to come alone,” he said. “She’ll be here soon.”
“Did you tell her about the letter?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He looked at me. “Why did you come back?”
“I told you.”
“You want an explanation.”
“I want the truth.”
His expression tightened.
“I know I failed you,” he said.
“You failed Grace.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that as though it’s the same as understanding.”
He lowered his eyes.
I placed the letter on the table between us.
“Did you ever read this?”
“No.”
“Did Olivia ever tell you that she answered my call from the hospital?”
“No.”
“Did she tell you that she knew Grace was dead before you did?”
His face went pale.
“No.”
“She says she thought I was calling to cause a scene.”
His jaw clenched. “She had no right to decide that.”
“No. She didn’t.”
“I should have known.”
“You should have answered your phone.”
“I know.”
I looked at him.
He stopped himself before repeating it.
The door opened.
Olivia entered wearing a cream-colored coat and carrying a small leather purse. She looked composed at first glance, but the moment she saw me, the color drained from her face.