“So Elias told you.”
“No.” Her voice trembled. “Cynthia did. She said you recorded them. She’s furious. She said you were hiding under the bed like some kind of lunatic.”
My pulse moved into my throat.
Cynthia knew.
“How?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
But she did. I heard it in the way her voice thinned.
“Brenda.”
A shaky exhale. “Elias found something in the hotel suite. A bead from your dress, maybe. I don’t know. Cynthia started putting it together after you vanished.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
No secret stayed perfect forever.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I want you to know I’m not part of everything.”
“You were part of enough.”
“I know.”
The admission disarmed me more than denial would have.
