Page 23 of Cut Off from Sky and Earth

Twenty-Two

Emily

M y head buzzes, and it’s not from the wine. I can’t believe Tristan has a brother he never told me about.

I sense Alex’s eyes on me as I stare into the fire, playing back every conversation I’ve ever had with Tristan or his mom.

Could one of them have mentioned this brother and I somehow missed it or forgot?

This feels impossible, but I’m desperate for an explanation other than the obvious one, which is that Tristan hid the fact that he has a sibling from me. I can’t wrap my mind around it.

“Tristan has a brother,” I say softly. “And his dad’s last name was Weakes?” I look at her for confirmation.

She barks out a laugh. “Are you kidding me? You didn’t even know his name ? Do you know anything about your husband?”

I bristle, defensive. Probably because what she’s saying has a kernel of truth to it. “It’s not like that. I know all the things that matter. His legal last name is Rose. It was Rose when I met him. Why would I ask?”

“Why would you have to ask?” she shoots back. “Why wouldn’t he just tell you?”

I consider this for a moment. Why wouldn’t he?

Finally, I shrug. “He doesn’t like to talk about Maine. When he does mention it, it’s only in passing. He told me his dad died there when he was young, and he and his mom moved away soon after. She remarried pretty quickly, and his stepdad adopted him. He’s told me plenty of stories about Arizona.”

“But not Windy Rock.”

“Right, not Windy Rock. I always assumed it’s a difficult subject for him to talk about.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” she agrees, “but you’re his wife. You must talk about difficult things.” A pause. “Don’t you?”

I bristle. “That’s not fair. We started dating when I was grieving my best friend’s murder. I mean, I’m still grieving, I probably always will be. But it was fresh then. It had only been a year.”

She gives me a thoughtful look. “I’ll bet Tristan was so supportive, helping you through that dark period, wasn’t he?”

My stomach twists. I really, really do not want to tell this prickly, judgmental woman the truth. But some part of me knows I need to.

“He doesn’t know about Cassie.”

She blinks, and it takes a moment for what I’m telling her to register.

“Tristan doesn’t know your roommate was murdered?” she asks slowly.

I nod.

Her jaw drops. “How is that possible? You went to college in a town with a population of twenty thousand people, give or take. How did he miss a murder?”

Before answering, I raise an eyebrow at the fact that she researched us.

She has the self-awareness to flush. “He wasn’t living there yet.

He started graduate school five months after it happened, and I guess …

,” I pause to search for a way to explain.

“When I met him and realized he didn’t know that I was the murdered girl’s roommate, it was such a relief, refreshing.

You can’t imagine what it’s like. Once you’ve been connected to a horrific crime, you never get your life back.

To everyone who knows about it, I’ll always be that girl who found her dead roommate’s body. But with Tristan, I was just Emily.”

Her face softens. “I don’t have to imagine it. I know.”

Now I’m the one who’s confused. What does she mean? How could she possibly know?

I’m about to ask her, when she bolts to her feet.

“Let’s eat.”