He’d sat at lunch with Tyler, Zach, and Ryan and had hardly listened to a word they said. He’d bench-pressed, stretched, run, and practiced, his body knowing what to do while his mind was elsewhere, focused on Miranda, on Miranda killing Julie, on Miranda cold-bloodedly drugging Julie, then smothering the life out of her.
He’d tried to figure out who else knew and decided no one did. Dad and Lisa would never have forgiven her. Matt might have, but Miranda wouldn’t have wanted Syl to know. And Mom… Mom was closer to Miranda than she was to either him or Matt, but even if Mom could have forgiven her, she couldn’t have kept it a secret. If Mom knew, they’d all know, and since they didn’t, she couldn’t.
No, the only person Miranda told was Alex. She told him on the road to Sexton, and Alex left her. Carlos was right. Alex loved Miranda, but he’d loved Julie, too, and felt responsible for her. If Carlos had said no to the marriage, Alex wouldn’t have returned.
But Carlos had said yes, allowing Alex to marry his sister’s killer. And Jon spent three years feeling responsible for something that had never truly been his fault.
He thought about that final day harder than he ever had before. Yes, he’d wanted Julie. He was a teenage boy and she was a teenage girl, and that was the nature of things. If Julie hadn’t been so religious, or more to the point, if she hadn’t been so scared of Alex, who was so religious, she would have had no reservations about making love. It had been their last chance, probably the last time they’d ever see each other.
Jon knew now he’d pushed too hard, and he understood why Julie had panicked. But panic was an irrational response. Julie knew him and loved him and should have understood that he would never hurt her. But her fear of Alex was stronger than her love of Jon. Which was pretty ironic, given that Alex loved her murderer.
Julie had panicked. Jon had gone out after her, had risked his own life to protect her, and she continued to panic. By that point, he realized, she must have been as terrified by the storm as she had been of him. The rain, the wind, the hail, must have driven her into a wild, irrational terror, and she was past the point of understanding that all he wanted was to keep her from harm.
Then the wind had lifted her and thrown her down. Jon had done everything he could to protect her, but she’d resisted and paid the price.
Jon remembered everything about that moment. He acknowledged, as he never had before, that there’d been an instant when he thought, She’s dead and she’ll never tell what happened.
But she wasn’t dead, and he didn’t leave her there to die. He could have. The storm was raging. No one knew where they were. He could have risked it, gone back to the house, claimed they’d gotten separated, hoping she’d be dead by the time they found her. He’d thought of all that then. For a moment he’d considered it.
Instead he’d gone back and led them to her. Julie could have accused him of trying to rape her. She could have claimed she ran into the storm because she feared for her life in the house with him. Everyone would have believed her. Jon could have told the truth, sworn he never would have hurt her, and they would have turned against him anyway.
Julie hadn’t told. She loved him enough not to. Maybe she was waiting for him to see her, waiting to have a chance to forgive him. If she’d lived only a few days longer, he would have gone to her. Saving Lisa and Gabe was his first priority, but after that he would have gone to beg for Julie’s forgiveness, and he knew she would have forgiven him.
But Miranda killed her before he and Julie had that chance. All these years he’d blamed himself for Julie’s death, but it was Miranda who was responsible.
Jon understood why Miranda had done it. Julie was paralyzed. Miranda believed there was no cure.
But maybe she was wrong. Maybe they could have gotten Julie to a doctor, somehow, somewhere. Or maybe Julie’s prayers and Alex’s and Lisa’s and Syl’s would have been answered, and a miracle would have happened, and Julie would have been cured. Dad thought Lisa’s survival, Gabe’s survival, was miraculous. Maybe Julie could have had a miracle of her own.
Only Miranda hadn’t let that happen. They were Alex’s pills, but Alex hadn’t told her to kill his sister. Miranda came up with that all on her own. Months later she’d confessed to Alex what she’d done. By then Julie was just a memory, a sister Alex had loved but one he’d fought with, one he thought of as a burden he’d been trying to be free of for over a year.
Carlos said, “Sure, marry our sister’s murderer.” Alex took that as a blessing and raced back to Miranda. It was as though Julie had never existed.
She existed for Jon, though. She haunted his dreams. She kept him from having any kind of chance with a girl like Sarah. Only grubber girls, who could be bought for a quarter of a bar of soap.
Miranda had done that to him. Miranda had murdered Julie, and she had murdered everything that was good in him.
And now Miranda was going to be living in his house. It was a fantasy to think he’d be able to avoid her. She’d work in the greenhouse, eat with Val and Carrie, sleep in the garage. But she’d be there. She’d be running in to check on her baby, the one Julie would never have. Officially she’d be a domestic, but she’d feel like Lisa’s stepdaughter, Gabe’s half sister. Jon’s sister. Every time he’d see her, he’d picture her putting the pillow over Julie’s face, holding it down until she could never breathe again.
“Jon! Wake up! I wanna play!”
Gabe had rushed into his room and jumped on top of him.
“Carrie!” Jon shouted. “Carrie, get in here!”
Carrie ran in. “Gabe, stop that,” she said. “Jon will play with you later.”
“I want to play now!” Gabe yelled.
Carrie walked over to the bed to pull Gabe away. But as she did, Jon rose, and by the time she reached Gabe, Jon’s hand was up and he was ready to strike her.
Carrie froze. Gabe began crying. Jon pulled his hand back. He’d never hit a girl before, not even a grub, but he knew if he hit Carrie once, he would never stop. He would batter her with his fists until she was unconscious, until she was dead.
Gabe ran out of the room and Carrie ran right behind him. Jon stood absolutely still, trying to catch his breath, trying to regain his sanity.
It wasn’t Carrie. He had nothing against Carrie. It could have been Val.
It could have been Sarah.
It was Miranda he wanted to kill. Miranda, who’d killed the girl he’d loved, leaving him to drown in guilt for the rest of his life.
Jon answered the phone as soon as he walked in.
“Oh, Jon, I’m glad I got you,” Lisa said. “I’m here at the hospital with Miranda.”
“Miranda,” he said, trying to sound like a loving brother. “Is she all right?”
“Yes, I think so,” Lisa said. “She passed out at the greenhouse this afternoon. They sent her here by ambulance.”
“And the baby?” Jon asked.
“Fine,” Lisa said. “I’m sure Miranda is, also. It’s hard to be eight months pregnant and on your feet all day long, and the greenhouses are so hot and humid. But they’re not taking any chances. They’re going to keep her in the hospital for the remainder of her pregnancy. Her blood pressure’s very high, and they think it’s better for her to be monitored. The paperwork’s all done, so officially she works for me. That’s why they called me.”
“Have you seen her?” Jon asked.
“No, not yet,” Lisa said. “It’s been less than an hour, and they’re still checking her out. Everyone tells me there’s nothing to worry about, but of course I feel I should talk to her and make sure she’s all right. I don’t know how long that’s going to take. Alex may not realize anything’s wrong until he gets to White Birch, but he’s bound to panic when he doesn’t see her there. And Laura will be hysterical. My guess is they’ll get to a phone before curfew and call us to see if we know where she is. I’ll probably be home by then, but just in case, I wanted you to know what’s happening. You can tell them Miranda’s getting the best possible care.”