Page 59 of You Belong Here

“They were coming after us,” I said softly.

“Cliff warned me. We were just going to keep them here. To keep them away from us.” I shook my head, felt the tears coming.

For the second time in a day, I was confessing.

“They were chasing her, and I closed the door behind them. I didn’t know what she was doing—the fire—I swear. ”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I tried to get them out!” I said. “I really did.”

She grabbed me by the arm, twisting my shoulder again, and I cried out in pain.

“Then don’t you talk to me about my son,” she said, voice dangerously close. “He didn’t mean to do anything, either. But we aren’t always believed, are we.”

“He was waiting for Delilah at the quarry. But Adalyn showed up instead.”

“Stop saying that. He didn’t even know who she was, Beckett, when he called me in a panic.”

I stayed silent, letting her speak. Counting the seconds. How much longer until security checked the cameras, saw us running through the night? How much longer until they found us here? Was my phone even working?

Violet went on, “He said it was supposed to be a prank. That he’d run into someone in the woods, scared them by accident. The quarry is so dangerous, you and I both know that. We’re trying to fix that up. Bryce said that she fell. And he was confused because it was some older lady.”

I didn’t believe that. He was so angry. I believed he had wanted to hurt Delilah; maybe not kill her, but he’d definitely wanted to give her a good scare.

He had taken her things, sneaked into our house.

And then he’d lured Delilah—and only Delilah—out there in the night, wearing a mask.

He’d lured her to the place his family now owned.

It was a one-sided game that kept escalating.

Something she hadn’t even known she was a part of.

“You’re the one who moved the body,” I said. Violet couldn’t leave it there. Not on their property. Not with evidence that could lead straight to her son.

Fred Mayhew had it right, he just had the wrong people. Instead of me covering for Delilah, it had been Violet helping Bryce cover up the crime.

“I made him wait in the car,” she said. “I got into the water, checked her ID. Can you believe my shock at seeing Adalyn’s name.” Violet shook her head. “She was after my son, Beckett. Charlie’s son. You can see that, right?”

“No,” I said, finally understanding why Adalyn had stayed. She had been watching, and she’d seen what was happening: a girl who looked so similar to me; Bryce, going after her, sneaking into our house.

She had protected my daughter. Gone to confront Bryce in her place. And she’d died because of it.

“You were trying to frame Delilah,” I said. “You took Adalyn’s key to our house and planted Delilah’s phone in there.” I’d heard the cabinet open in the kitchen—it must’ve been the door to the dumbwaiter, up above.

It was Violet inside my house that day. Violet who saw the mask on the table—and took it.

“Delilah’s phone was on the body,” she said. “Bryce said she’d been staying at your folks’ place. Do you think she knew Adalyn? Do you think they were acting together, like you and she did, so long ago?”

“No,” I said. Delilah had never noticed that Adalyn was there. The shadow following her. Watching her from afar. Sierra had noticed her presence only in hindsight.

“What were you even doing here so early that morning?” she asked, but I could sense her backing away.

Soon, I thought. No one was coming. I had to move soon.

“I dropped Bryce by the edge of the woods so he could get back to the dorms while I figured out what the hell to do. Then I find out you were already there ? And you want me to believe you didn’t know what Adalyn was planning. ”

“She was calling for help from Delilah’s phone when he pushed her,” I said. “I thought the dropped call was from Delilah.”

“I told you to stop saying that.”

I was running out of time. Couldn’t talk my way out. Couldn’t push my way past her.

Violet stood between me and the exit. “Wouldn’t it be fitting, to die in this place that shares your own name?” A place to begin and a place to end. “Do you think they put any fire sprinklers in here after the last time?” she asked, taking a matchbook from her pocket.

The skeleton key was in my bag. I had a way out, but I wouldn’t make it past her to the door. Not with a fire. I had no idea if the pipes were flammable. I wouldn’t make it. Not in time.

“I have the key,” I yelled. “I have the key to the tunnels. The one I gave Adalyn. It’s the proof. I’ll give it to you.”

She paused, considering. That was all she ever wanted—to be believed.

I fumbled in my purse, seizing the moment. My fingers brushed the loops of the skeleton key. But I grabbed the phone instead, held it up so she could see that someone was on the other end, listening: Fred Mayhew.

The clock keeping time of our call kept ticking forward. He’d been listening for a long while.

Her eyes widened, and in the glow of red, I saw her make a decision. The sirens were audible now, growing closer.

The clock had begun. She turned and ran.

I followed her out of the tunnels, saw her standing at the entrance of the double doors, frozen, hands raised.

It was too late. The police had arrived—and so had a crowd.

Violet exited the building to a sea of red and blue lights waiting for both of us.