Page 159 of Perfume Girl

“I would never,” I said.

Penelope stomped closer. “Everything was fine before you came along.”

I flinched when she got too close. “I know what happened that night,” I said softly. “Whatreallyhappened at Bridgestone when you were children.”

Penelope looked at her brother with a panicked expression. “You told her?”

“I told her nothing,” said Astor.

“You carry the guilt for something that wasn’t your fault,” I told them both, and then turned to her. “You saved your mom’s life, Penelope.”

Astor was shaking his head telling me not to go there. He was protecting her even now. Even after all she had done to him.

“You were very young and very scared,” I kept my voice low. “Neither of you deserve to carry the guilt even one more day.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “Who told you? Did you force the truth out of my mother? I know you went there. I know you broke into our home at Bridgestone and talked with her.”

“She didn’t break in,” said Astor.

“My father was going to kill her,” snapped Penelope.

“I know,” I whispered.

Her tone softened. “You weren’t there. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I do.” I glanced at Astor. “More than you realize.”

She looked broken. “I did what had to be done—”

“Stop!” Astor looked stunned at her confession.

I turned to him. “You told them it was you?”

The waves drowned out my voice.

Astor’s gaze was locked on Penelope—the sadness and shock he was feeling reflected in his hazel eyes.

My heart broke all over again for him, thinking of the consequences he’d endured for letting everyone think he had pulled the trigger.

“It was a long time ago.” I heard the agony in his voice. “It’s all forgotten.”

“And forgiven,” I said, turning to Penelope.

Our gazes rose to the few guests standing on the glass-front balcony above who had apparently overheard Penelope’s confession that it had been her who had picked up that gun and pointed it at her father—and fired the fatal shot.

Astor cringed as he looked up at the people staring down at us in silence. Then he moved close to Penelope and wrapped his arm around her. “Let’s get you home.”

“I got that formula for you,” she said. “I wanted you to forgive me. All that they put you through because of me. I wanted to do something good.”

“It’s over now,” he soothed. “Raquel, will you take Caine for me, please?”

I took the leash from him and watched Astor escort his sister away.

Waiting on the beach with Caine, I stared out at the water.

Though a weight had lifted from me, I couldn’t rejoice because Astor was in torment. He would have wanted to believe his sister was innocent of stealing my formula. Choosing me in that moment had to have caused him pain. Yet he had done it anyway.

All I could think of was how he had suffered for all those years because his mother hadn’t told the authorities the truth. Her haunting words came back to me:I should have protected him. Should have told them what really happened.