Chapter 2

The Water Was Still Winter

"There is no page seven," I said.

Caleb watched me in the mirrored elevator.

"There was when you entered the station."

"Then perhaps your tracker missed something."

His hand closed around my wrist.

"Do not make me your enemy, Claire."

I looked at the man who had helped send my father to prison and wondered what he thought an enemy was.

"Release Ethan."

"His bail hearing is tomorrow."

"Call whoever you called to keep him there. Undo it."

"That is not how the justice system works."

I laughed. I could not help it.

Caleb's grip tightened.

"Come to Vanessa's charity dinner tomorrow night," he said. "Smile. Stop accusing her mother in public. If you can prove you are stable, I will make sure no one opposes Ethan's release."

There it was. Not a confession. Not a written bargain.

Just power spoken quietly enough to disappear.

"Fine," I said. "One dinner. Then Ethan comes home."

The next night, Hale House glowed above the Charles River like a palace built to deny bankruptcy.

Crystal chandeliers shone over borrowed flowers. A string quartet played beside a wall of champagne. Every white linen table carried a card asking guests to donate to cardiac research in honor of Vanessa's miraculous recovery.

Vanessa met us at the entrance in silver silk.

She touched Caleb's arm before she greeted me.

"You came," she said, her eyes shining. "Claire, that means more than you know."

"Ethan means more than you know."

Her smile remained perfect.

As Caleb moved away to speak with the district attorney, two women beside us lowered their voices badly enough for me to hear.

"That's Robert Mercer's daughter."

"Imagine showing her face after what he did."

"Vanessa is a saint for inviting her."

Vanessa touched my elbow. "Ignore them. Grief makes people cruel."

"You would know."

Her nails pressed through my sleeve.

"Let's get some air."

She guided me through French doors toward the rear terrace. Beyond the stone balustrade, the swimming pool lay black beneath the February sky. Hale House kept it open for appearance, but no steam rose from the surface.

My phone showed one bar of signal.

I tapped the livestream icon inside a private account Maya had created and slipped the phone into the open pocket of my coat, camera facing outward.

Vanessa turned as soon as the doors closed behind us.

"You look terrible," she said. "Has Caleb stopped sleeping in your room yet?"

"My father is dead. My brother is in jail. Forgive me for not dressing for your entertainment."

"Your father died because he was guilty."

"Your mother left a pregnant woman broken on a hotel courtyard."

For a moment, Vanessa's sweetness vanished.

"Careful. Caleb could have saved your brother already. The only reason he hasn't is that you keep forcing him to prove where his loyalty belongs."

"And where does it belong?"

She smiled. "You know."

Voices approached from inside.

Vanessa reached into her clutch and removed a small silver case.

"My rescue medication," she said. "One dose is all that stands between me and cardiac arrest."

Then she threw it into the pool.

It struck the water with a quiet splash.

Vanessa screamed.

Guests rushed onto the terrace. Caleb came first.

"What happened?"

Vanessa clutched her chest. "Claire took my medication. She said if I died, everything would go back to the way it was."

Caleb looked at me.

Not at the security camera over the terrace door.

Not at the guests holding phones.

At me.

"Is that true?"

"Check the camera."

Vanessa swayed. "Caleb, I can't breathe."

He caught her by the shoulders.

"Where is the case?"

She pointed toward the pool.

I said, "She threw it herself."

"Why would she throw away medication that keeps her alive?"

"Because it doesn't."

His face hardened.

"Get it back."

"The pool is nearly freezing."

"Then you should have considered that before you threw it."

People watched us in a widening circle.

This was what Caleb did best. He created a courtroom wherever he stood, named himself judge, and waited for everyone else to accept their parts.

I removed my coat and shoes.

Vanessa's eyes glittered.

Caleb lowered his voice. "Find it, apologize, and Ethan goes home tonight."

My phone remained in my coat pocket, aimed at the pool.

"Say that again."

He frowned. "What?"

"Nothing."

I stepped into the water.

Cold seized my legs so violently that I nearly fell. By the third step, my lungs refused a full breath. The silver case had vanished against the dark tile.

I dove.

The water closed over my head like a fist.

I searched the drain, surfaced, dragged in air, and dove again.

After the fourth attempt, Caleb's phone rang. He glanced at the screen.

"Do not let her out until she finds it," he told Vanessa.

Then he walked inside.

The first ice cube struck my temple.

Laughter followed.

Vanessa's friends gathered at the edge of the pool, emptying silver buckets meant for champagne.

"Maybe cold water will wash the murder out of her blood," one woman said.

Another threw a plastic tumbler. It struck my shoulder.

I swam toward the shallow steps.

Vanessa planted one stiletto against my cheek.

"He chose me," she whispered. "Even after marrying you, he chose me."

She shoved.

I went backward into the water.

My skull clipped the tile. White light burst behind my eyes.

For one second, I wanted to stay beneath the surface. It would be quiet there. Caleb could protect Vanessa forever. Boston could keep calling my father a murderer.

Then I saw Ethan behind scratched glass.

I kicked upward.

When Caleb returned, blood was running from my hairline into the pool.

"What happened?" he demanded.

Vanessa covered her mouth. "She hit her own head. I tried to stop her."

Her friends nodded.

"She said she wanted you to feel sorry for her."

I reached for the edge.

Caleb stepped between me and the ladder.

"Where is the medication?"

"There is no medication."

"Enough."

My arms had begun to shake. I could no longer feel my feet.

Behind him, my phone continued streaming.

I forced myself toward the terrace-camera side of the pool and searched once more. When I surfaced, the room beyond the windows tilted.

"Release Ethan," I said.

Caleb crouched. For the first time, fear disturbed his face.

"Claire, take my hand."

"Say it."

"I will call tonight."

"Say he goes home."

"He goes home."

The camera saw his face.

The livestream heard every word.

I let my body go still.

Someone screamed as I slipped beneath the surface.

When I opened my eyes again, warmth pressed around me and a monitor beeped beside my bed.

Ethan sat in the chair near the window, wearing jeans and the same gray college sweatshirt he had been arrested in.

I touched his bruised cheek.

"You're out."

His eyes filled. "Claire, what did you do?"

"Something I should have done a year ago. I stopped asking Caleb to be decent."

Ethan glanced toward the door, then pulled a thin brass key from beneath his shirt.

"Dad gave me this before the trial," he whispered. "It's not for a door. It's the recovery key to his cloud account."

He placed it in my palm.

"He said if anything happened to him, you had to hear the file Caleb thought he deleted."