Quiet in Her Bones Singh, Nalini (the top 100 crime novels of all time .txt) 📖

but Nina said I should keep an eye on Calvin and the other doctor, in case things changed. The other doctor ended up dying suddenly of a heart attack not long afterward, so I was glad we never mentioned it.” Alice held my gaze. “I’ve kept the secret all this time. Diana’s the kindest person I know and she’s had enough to deal with, with her sister being so awful to her.”

“Did she ever say what caused the break between them?”

Alice glanced away, then back. “No, but I was a young woman madly in love when I first came to the Cul-­de-­Sac, and the way Calvin looked at ­Sarah … that was the way Cora used to look at me.”

The silence turned into a roar. “You think Sarah had an affair with Calvin?”

“Sarah would’ve never.” Alice’s voice was fierce. “She was devoted to Diana. But the way Diana always takes the blame for the fight, I think she might’ve accused her sister of it. That would’ve broken Sarah’s heart.”

I nodded, Diana’s ­guilt-­ridden voice whispering in my mind, talking of faith and broken promises. “I can see how it might’ve played out.” A baseless accusation that had permanently ripped apart the bond between two sisters.

The door opened, Elei’s and Shanti’s voices preceding the two women. I sat back and let them take over the conversation. I had plenty to think about.

When my phone beeped at around eight, an hour after we’d arrived back at my father’s house, I glanced at it to see an alert for a message from a VIP email address. I had very few people on that list, but I’d added Sarah to it after Mia forwarded me her address.

I scrambled to open up the email. It had just been sent:

Aarav, what an unexpected message. It’s been a while. How are you? I saw the news about your mum. I’m sorry.

I replied quickly, hoping she was still online.

Thanks, can I give you a call?

The response downloaded only seconds later.

It’s not convenient right now, but we can talk this way. Did you have a particular reason for getting in touch?

I was talking to Mia and thought it’d be nice if I could arrange a meeting between you and your sister.

The answer took time.

That’s sweet of you, Aarav, but it’s been too long. I like my life and I don’t really want to go back into the past. I’ve moved on.

Even from your family?

My family always had weird dynamics. It’s better this way. We don’t hurt each other anymore.

I stared down at the screen.

Diana really misses you. She almost cried when talking to me about you. Whatever she did, she’s sorry about it.

Another long wait for a reply.

I trusted her and she broke my trust. You can’t fix that.

Is that why you tore up her roses?

It was an immature thing to do, but I was immature back then. I saw them as I was leaving and just ripped them out. Got my hands torn up by thorns, but I didn’t care. I hope her roses are thriving now.

They are. Sarah, can we talk again?

Email me anytime. I have to go now. Bye, Aarav.

I sat there staring at the screen for long moments. When my stomach rumbled, I ate half a bag of the fudge in my desk drawer while considering Sarah’s words. Was she right? Should I take her lead and stop walking back into the past? Should I let sleeping dogs lie?

The answer was easy: no, not so long as my mother’s killer roamed free.

But it was obvious that whatever had broken between Sarah and ­Diana—­whether it was what Alice suspected or something ­else—­it couldn’t be fixed. I, too, was sad that Diana’s life wasn’t as perfect as ­everyone believed.

­But … did Calvin’s ­long-­ago infidelity matter if Diana had never known? It looked like he treated her with the same love and care as always, and she seemed happy.

Maybe that was enough.

Grimacing at the low throb of pain at the back of my head, I decided to take a break and read. It was probably just a tension headache. But it continued to grow until I ended up in bed. That proved pointless, ­however—­I couldn’t sleep. Sitting up, I finally surrendered and took a few of the prescribed painkillers.

No point in avoiding them if I was going to end up with an aneurysm.

As the medicine worked its way through my system, I had a thought: that day, the one after Sarah left the family home, was when I’d seen my mother on her knees beside Diana, helping to put her rose garden to rights.

Sarah had ripped out the roses by their roots.

But now, in the painless clarity of my brain, I realized Diana had planted those roses at least three years earlier. I’d seen them bloom multiple times. It was impossible for anyone to just rip them out in a fit of ­fury—­especially not a woman using her bare hands.

My memory of that moment was crystalline. I remembered how some of the rose plants had been dying already, broken off too savagely to save, but only some. The majority had been carefully insulated with dirt, the roots fairly unharmed.

Only way to dig out the roots without damaging them would’ve been to use a shovel.

Why would Sarah dig out her sister’s roses with such care if she was intent on destroying what Diana loved?

The same Sarah who was a ghost.

Getting up out of bed, I stared at the house across the road, its windows aglow with light. I knew what I had to do. It was all so clear now. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before.

60

It was cold, a light misty rain had just stopped falling, and the sneaker on my good foot was wet, dirty, while the large trash bag I’d tied around my moon boot kept threatening to make me slip. The trees of the watching forest shivered in the twilight darkness. I didn’t know how long I’d been digging, but it had to be