“What?”
“Your grandmother and I switched cars that afternoon.
She wanted me to leave town because Cordelia had been following her.”
Rebecca looked at me.
“I drove Eleanor’s car.”
My mouth went dry.
“The crash…”
“Was meant for her.”
“Then how did you survive?”
“I barely did.”
She touched the left side of her ribs.
“Broken spine.
Punctured lung.
Facial injuries.
I spent months in hospitals under another name.”
“Why didn’t you come back?”
“Because someone came to finish the job.”
I looked at Cordelia.
Rebecca nodded.
“A man entered my hospital room three weeks after the crash.”
Flynn shook his head.
“My father?”
“No.”
Rebecca looked at Cordelia.
“Her brother.”
Cordelia closed her eyes.
“He tried to suffocate me.
A nurse interrupted him.”
My stomach turned.
“Grandfather knew?”
“Eventually.”
“Why did he tell everyone you were dead?”
“To protect me.”
The puzzle began reshaping itself.
The secrecy.
