“Only for you and Enzo, Millie,” he says. “I’ll pull every string I’ve got to make this come together and get him off the hook.”
“So we’re even then,” I say.
“No, I think I still owe you a few more.”
I bring my ear close to the door to the hotel room, listening for sounds coming from within. “What if she tries to kill herself in there?”
“She won’t do that. She’s a fighter. You can just tell.”
“What do you think she’ll decide?”
He smiles sadly. “She’s going to confess to killing her husband—I’m sure of it. She doesn’t want that other charge. And she knows they have her.”
I hope he’s right. I need my husband back. And I need this nightmare to be over.
Although I have a feeling it’s not going to be over for a very long time.
SEVENTY-NINE
It’s been almost two weeks since Suzette Lowell confessed to the murder of her husband, Jonathan Lowell.
The four of us are having breakfast in our kitchen, something that didn’t seem like it would ever be possible again only two weeks earlier. But now Enzo is home again. After Suzette confessed, all the charges against him were dropped.
Ada’s part in the murder is only known to us.
“I love chocolate chip pancakes,” Nico says as he happily digs into the plate of pancakes I made.
Enzo flashes me a smile from across the table. He still looks tired from the events of the last few weeks, but he’s here, and that’s what’s important. And our family is healing. Nico especially is going to need a lot of therapy after everything that happened, but that’s okay. We are going to bounce back from this.
We are not going to let what the Lowells did destroy us.
“One more week of school,” Enzo reminds the kids, “then you get summer vacation. We take trip somewhere, yes?”
“Where?” Ada asks.
“Yes, where?” I ask, because this is the first time I’m hearing about this alleged trip.
“We will decide,” he says. “I think we need to get away.”
He’s right. We do need to get away. This summer, we are selling this house. After everything that happened, I can’t imagine living here anymore. We need to find a place that is cheaper so we are not stressing over every single bill. Maybe we need to relocate somewhere entirely different. A fresh start would be nice.
“I want to go to Disneyland,” Nico pipes up.
“Me too!” Ada says.
“Florida is very hot in the summer,” I remind them.
“That’s DisneyWorld, Mom,” Ada corrects me. “Disneylandis in California.”
California? Is she serious? I was thinking more along the lines of a trip to the Jersey Shore. I look over at Enzo, who shrugs. I don’t think we’re going to California this summer—four round-trip tickets across the country isn’t in our budget. But I don’t have the heart to shut down their Disneyland dreams right now.
The school bus is coming soon, so we usher both the kids out the door for them to make the bus with seconds to spare. Just as the bus drives away, that black Dodge Charger pulls up into our cul-de-sac. While I’m always happy to see my friend, I can’t say I don’t get a flash of anxiety when I see a police officer parking in front of my lawn.
But Enzo doesn’t seem the slightest bit concerned. He waves at Ramirez as he gets out of his car. “Buongiorno, Benny!”
Ramirez waves back, then he sees my face and quickly says, “This is just a social visit, Millie. Everything is fine.”
Thank God.
