“All of you are here? The whole…” She shook her head, unable to finish the thought. “Never mind. That shouldn’t surprise me. What is it about this town that makes me the family pariah?”
“No!” Vivien exclaimed, stepping closer. “We’re so happy?—”
“You won’t be,” Crista interjected, knowing she had to get it all out before the niceties and small talk. “When I tell you what I drove five hours and fifteen minutes to say to your faces, you will not be happy. You might abandon the idea of keeping this house, and you will, I assure you, never lay eyes on anyone with the last name of Wylie ever again.”
Eli drew back, his brow furrowing. “What?”
“Didn’t you say you’d seen them?” she asked. “The Wylies? That they’d been here? You have no idea what that family did to us, Eli.”
“Crista, stop,” Eli said firmly, lifting his hands as if to quiet her. “Whatever you are about to?—”
“You need to know this,” she insisted. “You need to know that if it weren’t for Arthur Wylie, our father would still be alive. He would never have gone to jail, only to die alone in his cell.”
The words spilled out of her like a flood, unstoppable and raw, followed by a stunned silence and every eye on her.
“It’s true,” she continued. “Some ethics professor, huh? Our dear ‘Uncle Artie’ totally stabbed his best friend in the back, and we would still have a father if it weren’t for that snake. Now, do you want to talk to anyone named Wylie?”
“This can’t be true,” Eli said, his voice only a rough whisper.
“Oh, it’s true. Mama told me today,” Crista said, finally catching her breath. “It’s why she doesn’t want to come here and why they never talked after that. But when I told her you said you’d seen those Wylie girls, she exploded. She called them the devil’s daughters.”
“Excuse me?” The voice came from the landing, cold and sharp.
Crista whipped around, her heart plummeting as her worst fear materialized before her. Thirty long years might have passed, but that tall blonde with the movie star face and blazing amber eyes could only be…
“Are you…who I think you are?” Crista asked, hoping she was wrong.
The other woman took one step forward, her hands trembling but her voice strong. “I’m the woman who’s going to kill you if you speak one more word against my father.”
The heat rose to Crista’s face as she stared at the daughter of the man who had ruined their family. The woman whose presence in this house was a slap in the face to everyone who missed Roger Lawson.
“Tessa,” Crista whispered, struggling to get the name out. “I…I can’t talk to you. I’m sorry, but I think you should leave. I don’t…you shouldn’t be here. You need to leave this minute.”
Before Tessa could respond, Jonah stepped forward, his voice calm, but his grip on her arm firm. “And you need to chill the hell out, Aunt Crista.”
Crista jerked her arm away. “I will not chill. I can’t be in the same room as a Wylie.”
“Will you please be reasonable, Crista?” Eli interjected, his voice tight with frustration.
“Reasonable?” Crista spat, turning on her brother. “Her father basically killed our father!”
“He did not!” Tessa shouted, shooting forward, but Jonah moved between them, his broad shoulders blocking her path. “He did no such thing!”
Tension snapped like a taut rubber band as Crista crossed her arms and glared at Tessa, getting a golden-eyed scowl in return.
“I have the facts,” Crista said, keeping her voice as level as she could. “And you probably know it’s true! Why would you come here?”
Tessa closed her eyes, her lips trembling. Crista struggled to steady herself, a pang of guilt flickering briefly before her anger swallowed it whole.
“I’m sorry but…” Crista took a slow, deep breath. “You are not welcome here.”
Lacey stepped forward, her face flushed as she hugged Tessa.Huggedher! “She is so welcome here.”
“Lacey!” Crista exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief. “Did you hear what I said?”
“The whole beach heard you,” Lacey shot back. “But that doesn’t make it true.”
“It’s not…” Tessa’s voice cracked. “It can’t be. He’d never… My father didn’t have a disloyal bone in his body.”
