Page 82 of Begin Again

I blink. “For what?”

“For not speaking up,” she says. “After your dad died. After Aubrey made sure people stopped asking questions. I should have acted. I should have spoken up.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. I tighten my grip on the mug, swallowing around the lump in my throat. I never allowed myself to think about it too much—the silence that followed my dad’s death. How quickly everyone had moved on. Had I been fooling myself all these years? Had there been people who knew but were too afraid to speak?

“You knew something was wrong?”

Cassie exhales, leaning against the counter. “Your dad… he came to me after he got his DNA results. Said he found something—something big. I could tell it was eating at him. Then he left to go confront Aubrey, and—” She gestures vaguely, her voice thick with regret. “He never made it home.”

I stare down at the tea, my chest tightening. My dad had been searching for answers. He had found something. And it had gotten him killed.

“I wanted to push for answers,” she continues, “but I was already the town pariah. Nobody would have listened to me.” Her voice turns bitter. “Not after what Aubrey did.”

I look up. “Whatdidshe do?”

Cassie’s expression hardens, and she motions for us to join the others in the den. “Come on,” she says. “I think it’s time everyone hears this.”

We step into the den, where the others are already settled—Bennett standing stiffly near the fireplace, Mo perched on the arm of a chair, Orion leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

Cassie takes a seat, folding her hands in her lap. Her gaze lands on Bennett. “Aubrey and I used to be best friends.”

Bennett’s eyes widen slightly, but he says nothing.

Cassie exhales. “We had been close since middle school. I was even in her wedding party.” Her fingers tighten around the fabric of her jeans. “But that night, everything changed.”

The room is silent, everyone leaning in slightly.

“George was drunk,” she says. “Really drunk. I went to the bathroom during the reception, and he followed me in. He cornered me and made advances. When I tried to leave, he pinned me to the wall.”

Celeste makes a quiet sound of disgust.

“Aubrey walked in about that point and accused me of trying to ruin her wedding and sleep with her husband. I tried to tell her what happened,” Cassie takes a deep breath then barely above a whisper continues. “But Aubrey… She didn’t believe me. Or maybe she didn’twantto believe me. Either way, she called me a liar and turned the whole town against me.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “Nearly cost me my job.”

Bennett looks like he’s struggling to breathe. “So you’re saying… my father was a predator, and my mother covered for him?”

Cassie’s expression softens. “I don’t know if sheknewwhat he was when she married him. But she made her choice. And after he died, she buried every bad memory of him.”

Bennett swallows, his jaw tight. “And me?”

Cassie looks at him sadly. “If you’re her son like I think you are, I think she wanted to bury you, too.”

Silence. Heavy and thick.

Then Mo clears her throat. “That still doesn’t explain why Theo’s dad died.”

Cassie nods. “Right.” She glances at me. “Your father took one of those DNA tests with his students, as part of a genealogy project. At home DNA tests were all the rage at that point and we were curious to see if over time the family skewed your ancestry over time, like taking away or adding nationalities that didn’t belong. I honestly don’t even remember what it said when he got the results back, all he could focus on was that he had a nephew. But George had beendeadfor months before the baby was even born.”

Mo straightens and confirms what Celeste said earlier. “Which means Aubrey was pregnant before the wedding.”

Cassie nods. “Or she got pregnant on the honeymoon before George died. Your dad must have realized that. He went to confront her.” She hesitates, then says, “You guys got in that tragic car accident that night.”

The implication settles over us like a cold fog.

“Do you think she somehow caused his accident?” Orion asks, his voice measured, but there’s a sharp edge to it, a wariness I don’t think he realizes is there.

Cassie exhales, rubbing a hand over her face as if smoothing out the years of regret that have settled in the lines there. “I don’t know. But I know that after he died, she made sure no one asked too many questions.” She hesitates, scanning each of our faces, then adds, “There’s more”

The shift in her tone sends a ripple of unease through the group. The air in the room feels heavier, pressing down on my chest, making it harder to breathe.