Page 44 of Our Daughter's Bones

He swallowed and spoke deliberately. “You’ve been very stressed out for the last few weeks. You haven’t even been sleeping properly, and I’m getting a little worried. Why don’t you take a few days off when you’re done with this case?”

Her shoulders slumped.

“Just four days off, maybe. I want us to go away together. We can go up to Victoria.”

“Oh, I wasn’t expectingthat.”

“What were you expecting?”

“Nothing.” Her voice came out shrill. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

“Thank God! I was worried you were going to shoot me down.” He picked up his fork and speared a piece of pork, the matter settled.

She couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Where did you go on Thursday night, after our fight?”

Sterling’s hand paused briefly. “To Barbarians. For a drink.”

“There was alcohol at home, Sterling.”

“I wanted a change of scene.” He sighed impatiently. “What’s up with the third degree, Mack?”

She snorted derisively. “You’re a lawyer, and you think this is the third degree?”

“You know taking a drive clears my head.”

“You drove back home drunk?”

“Of course not!” His nostrils ballooned. He pushed away his plate and crossed his arms.

“Tell me a lawyer trick.” Mackenzie twirled her straw and cocked a brow.

Sterling pretended to think hard. “Crossing your arms means the person is getting defensive. Always suspicious. Don’t buy a word when they do that.”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t like you at all.”

“Of course not,” she said, resigned.

“You keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

He gritted his teeth behind his closed lips. “Starting something but not finishing it. Is everything okay? Because sometimes I think it’s not just the stress talking.”

“It is just stress, Sterling. Forget about it.”

They resumed eating, but he didn’t look convinced. Mackenzie idly wondered if she was the only one to feel the thick blanket of discomfort dampening the evening. She felt like she wasn’t sitting across from her husband of three years—but a stranger.

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard to talk with your husband. It was supposed to come as easy as breathing. If there was a problem, she was supposed to have an open and honest discussion with him. That was how marriages were supposed to work.

Then why wasn’t anything like it wassupposedto be?

Twenty-Five

September 18

Dear diary

I didn’t have fun at the party. It was fun dancing with Erica. I kept an eye on her at all times. So did Quinn, I guess. I didn’t drink much. I don’t like to lose control. The party sucked because of Christian. He was so sweet to me. Giving me compliments. Even tried to kiss me. I let him. Later I overheard that it was all for a bet with his stupid football friends. He made money from getting Saint Abby to kiss him at the party. I cried in the washroom. I didn’t tell Erica. I didn’t want to ruin her night. Especially when she is so in love with Quinn. I’ll never have that, will I? These people will always see me as the poor girl from the trashy part of town. Erica Perez’s charity case.