Page 92 of Enigma

Olive’s heart pounded in her ears. “Wait . . . those bruises on my mom weren’t from my dad?”

Sarah snorted. “No. Your dad wouldn’t have hurt your mom like that. Like I said, one of our contacts tried to send a message.”

Her thoughts continued to race. That changed so much about everything Olive had thought about her mom and dad. Maybe Dad wasn’t the monster she’d thought he was.

“So up until that point, he was working for you,” Olive murmured. “They both were. But then they wanted out.”

“They did. But your parents knew too much about our network, about the people we worked with, the money we moved. There was no way they could just ‘get out.’”

More pieces clicked together in her mind. “That’s why we moved in the middle of the night, isn’t it? My family left Oasis trying to get away from you.”

“Now you’re putting things together,” Sarah muttered. “He really thought they could start a new life, but he was in entirely too deep. If he’d just listened to me, if he’d kept his mouth shut . . .”

“And my mother?Yoursister. How could you . . . ?”

The implication hung heavy in the air.

Things would have been different if they’d kept playing along. Her parents could have continued their cons. Continued supplying money, products, and information to Sarah and Anton.

If so, her family would still be alive.

But her parents had tried to do the right thing. It had ultimately gotten them killed.

Nausea roiled in her gut at the thought.

“Witness protection pickup was scheduled for the next morning. Your father thought he was so clever, arranging it all behind my back.” Sarah turned away from the window. “But I have people everywhere, Olive. People who keep me in the loop.”

Some of her disgust quickly morphed into anger. “So it’s true then. Just like I thought. If I’d been home that night, I’d be dead too.”

Sarah’s expression flickered with something that resembled regret. “I didn’t want any of you kids hurt. That was never the plan. But my opinion, well, it was . . . vetoed.”

The casual way she said it—like Olive’s life had been decided by committee vote—sent a surge of rage through her chest.

“You killed my sisters!” Olive’s voice rose. “Jessie and Jules were only eleven years old. They were innocent!”

“I know how old they were!” Sarah snapped, some of the glibness leaving her gaze. “I told them not to hurt the kids. I even thought about what it would have been like to raise you girls myself. I thought Anton and I had reached an agreement—that you girls wouldn’t be harmed, no matter what everyone else said. But then . . .”

Her hand covered her mouth as if the memories were too much to take.

“I should have done it myself, then this would have never happened,” Sarah continued. “Your sisters would have been alive. But it was too late.”

“You should have protected them! That’s what aunts are supposed to do!”

Her nostrils flared. “Do you think that was easy for me? They were my nieces too.”

Her nieces too? Like she cared. Like she wasn’t a career criminal only concerned with power and money.

This woman disgusted her.

Olive lunged toward Sarah, fury overriding every tactical consideration. “You murdered my entire family! You took everything away from me. Everything! All for your own selfish gain.”

Before she reached her aunt, three armed men stepped from the shadows.

All three had their weapons trained on Olive.

“I wouldn’t,” the man behind the couch said calmly.

Olive froze. She was outnumbered and outgunned.