“I know guilt when I see it.”
His voice dropped.
“Please don’t cry. But you don’t know the whole truth about your daughter.”
I stared at him.
“The police told me the truth.”
“The police told you about the road,” Otis said. “Maybe not why she was on it.”
I looked down at the roses in my hand. “When does she come?”
“Thursday. Around eight.”
“Then I’ll be here.”
“The police told me the truth.”
***
Thursday morning, I parked outside the cemetery gates. At 8:06, a dark SUV pulled in.
A woman stepped out holding yellow daisies. I got out before she reached Maya’s grave.
“Are those for my daughter?”
She froze so hard the flowers shook.
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “And mine.”
“Who are you?”
“Are those for my daughter?”
Her eyes filled. “Katherine.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“My daughter was Sadie.”
The name hit like cold water.
Sadie. The girl in the other car. The girl everyone said had been racing Maya after skid marks, two cars near the bridge, and gossip became the story.
“My daughter was Sadie.”
“Leave,” I said.
“Please, Jackie.”
“You don’t get to say my name.”
“I know.” She held the daisies tighter. “But Sadie said yours before she died.”
I stopped. “What?”
“She survived until the next morning. The hospital called me in. She could barely speak, but she kept trying to explain. I should have told you. I was ashamed of the truth.”
“You don’t get to say my name.”
“What truth? Speak clearly. No riddles.”
Katherine looked at Maya’s grave. “The truth that I raised my daughter to think winning mattered more than breathing.”
I didn’t want to understand her. “What did Sadie say?”
“They weren’t racing.”
I laughed once. “Convenient.”
“I know. Sadie asked Maya to meet near the bridge to apologize for spreading rumors about her portfolio. She was dropping out.”
“Speak clearly. No riddles.”
“Why?”
“Because she knew Maya would win. And because she was tired of me pushing her and challenging a girl she admired.”
I looked down. “Then why did they leave in that storm?”
“The rain got worse. They were heading home. Then Maya’s phone rang.”
My chest tightened. “Who called?”
“Maya’s phone rang.”
Katherine’s voice broke.
“Your husband.”
“No.”
“Sadie said Maya answered and started crying. She kept saying, ‘Dad, please. Not tonight.’ Then she grabbed her things and ran to her car.”
“Jordan loved her.”
