Echo(5)

I have messages from everyone. I know I need to contact Bennett’s parents, and also Jacqueline, since I can see she has been calling excessively. God, the last thing I want to do is deal with these people, and as I’m about to walk away, the phone rings. I let Clara answer it as I head back to bed.

“Nina, it’s the funeral home,” she calls. “They are needing approval on a few final details.”

Drained of energy, I respond, “I’m sorry. I just can’t,” before dropping my head and walking out of the room.

What the hell do I care about Bennett’s funeral? Toss him in the lake for all I care. The bastard continues to ruin everything, even in his death. The anguish wells up into my throat as I fall onto the bed and cry into my pillow.

I f*cking hate that man. I hate him for everything he was. Misplaced aggression or not, that * took everything away from me.

I cry like mad, trying to expel some of this misery, but I can’t sit still. I lurch off the bed, and in a haze, find myself in Bennett’s closet, ransacking everything. Ripping clothes from the hangers, thrashing shoes across the room, grunting with each volatile purge until I’m against the wall, slamming my palm into the drywall over and over and over. I beg for the infliction of pain, but the only pain I feel is in my heart. So I clench my fist and pound harder and harder and harder and harder . . .

“Nina! Stop!”

Harder and harder and harder and harder and . . .





“MRS. VANDERWAL, THANK you for coming in. I’m so sorry for your loss. Your husband was a good friend.”

“Thank you, Rick,” I respond as I stand in front of our attorney’s desk and shake his hand.

“Please,” he says, gesturing to the chair, “Have a seat.”

I look at the man I’ve known since my engagement to Bennett four years ago as he sits down and pulls out a file of paperwork.

“I wanted to visit with you personally so that we can go over the terms of your husband’s will and estate. I know this is a difficult time for you right now, but the day of Bennett’s death, he stopped by to visit me.”

I nod my head, recalling the phone call that was made in my hospital room. It was the last time Bennett was with me, when he found out that I wasn’t really Nina, but Elizabeth, and that I’d been sneaking around with Declan.

Declan.

My throat tightens at the thought of him, but I push it down to focus on Rick as he continues to speak.

“A few amendments were made to the will,” he tells me, pulling out a sealed, white envelope from the file. “He instructed me to open and read this to you privately upon his death.”

Forcing out a tear, I sit and stare—nervous—but I play it as calm as I can.

“He must have known,” he states blankly.

“I don’t understand how any of this is happening.” My voice quivers around the words, and Rick hands me a tissue.

“Have the police said anything to you?”

“No. But they took almost everything from our home office. The last I heard is they think it’s business related.”

“Money will make people do sick things,” he says, and the chill that streams under my skin causes a sinister reaction inside of me.

He has no clue how close to home his words are hitting right now as I sit and wait to hear my reward for this game of revenge I’ve played over the past few years.

I dab my eyes with the tissue, and he asks, “Do you need a moment?”

I shake my head, and he takes his letter opener, slicing it through the lip of the envelope. Unfolding the paper, he takes a moment, and I watch as his eyes skitter across whatever is written. Rick clears his throat and shifts in his seat before reading aloud Bennett’s words.

My beautiful Nina,

I’m so conflicted writing this letter. The moment I met you, I knew the man I wanted to be. The type of man worthy enough to stand by your side because you are beyond magnificent.

But the conflict there is that you were never the woman I thought you were. I’m pissed at you. I know the woman that lies beneath the fallacy. The fallacy I fell deeply in love with. I don’t pretend to have the answers for what you’ve done, but don’t worry, my dear. Don’t be scared, because I never told a soul. I’ll take my friend, that little girl with the red pigtails, to my grave. Whatever it is that you wanted from me, I hope you found it. I hope that you can forgive me for what happened to you. I don’t know the details; all I do know is that I feel responsible.