“We’re all set.” I smile.

“Maybe she’s dead,” Ashlyn says, and starts crying. I hug her tight. “I was so mad, Mom. I wasn’t thinking straight. I thought she was going to hurt you. I just reacted. It was an accident.”

“I know, I was just as angry.”

Ashlyn’s face is tear-streaked. She’s speaking too fast.

“Take a deep breath. Whatever happened to Tish is her own doing. All of it is.” I wrap my arm around Ashlyn. She’s trembling. “You have done nothing. Do you understand me clearly? The last time you saw her, she admitted to tampering with your car. You could have died. You were not at her house tonight. Got it?”

She starts to cry again, sputtering.

“Calm down. Listen to me. None of this is our fault. She killed your father. She confessed to me.”

“She killed Dad with that drink, right? I saw a pitcher of the same stuff on the kitchen counter tonight when I climbed into my room. She was going to try to kill you, too. I had to stop her.”

“Yes, you’re right. She used cherry pits. I didn’t know they were poisonous and undetectable,” I say.

“Mrs. Nelson?” A nurse approaches, and I wrap my arms around Ashlyn, protecting my daughter, who slumps, sobbing, on the bed.

“Yes,” I answer, because I am. Always will be.

“I’m afraid the other Mrs. Nelson’s injuries are severe. Are you the next of kin? I need someone to authorize treatment, review the options.”

Tish is alive. I could have sworn from the way she was crumpled under the trunk that she died of her fall. The nurse stares at me.

I am not going to take responsibility for Tish’s care, that’s for sure. But I would like to be sure she can’t harm us anymore. “No, I am not related to her. She’s my ex-husband’s second wife.” I shake my head.

“Where is he?” she asks.

“My husband is deceased,” I answer. “You’ll need to get in touch with her attorney, a Mr. George Price. He’s the only contact of hers that I’m aware of. I’m sorry.”

Bob walks into the hospital room and nods in our direction with a finger in the air, signifying one minute. I had texted him as soon as I got to the hospital and had a moment of privacy. I’d feigned fainting to avoid answering any questions. And I needed to get out of here before someone started asking questions here. I told him to get me discharged immediately. He followed orders. “Let’s get out of here, shall we? I’ve signed the papers. Ashlyn, come along.”

Minutes later, the three of us walk out of the hospital and into the cool night.

“Mom,” Ashlyn says. “We need to go to her house.”

“It’s a police scene,” Bob says.

“She was going to hurt Mom tonight, when she went over there. Kill her, like she did Dad. I know it. She was setting a trap. I saw a pitcher of margaritas on the kitchen counter.”

I squeeze her hand so she won’t say more. She can’t admit she was there, not to anyone, not even Bob.

Bob looks at Ashlyn. And then turns to me.

“She’s right. Of course. Tish made another pitcher of her special margaritas, this time just for me,” I say, covering for Ashlyn. I’m sure she saw one, though. I wonder why Tish didn’t insist I have one? I suppose it’s because I came to her home with an offer for a bunch of money, and that’s all she really wanted.

“Good god,” Bob says, “I’ll call the police. Have them search the residence as a crime scene with a special focus on margaritas. Do you know what to test for, what she may have used?”

“Cherry pits. Ground-up cherry pits,” I say.

Ashlyn is shaking, and I wrap my arm around her.

“So, she really did poison John?” Bob pulls out his phone. “Yes, this is the attorney representing Mrs. Nelson, the first Mrs. Nelson, and her daughter, Ashlyn. We have reason to believe Mrs. Nelson was trying to poison the first Mrs. Nelson. She was fond of serving it. Yes, she can make a statement. Of course. Thank you.”

I don’t listen to the rest of Bob’s conversation as we stand in the parking lot of the hospital. I just hold on to my daughter. I know the police will want to question Ashlyn and me. But eventually, they’ll discover what Tish did.

I’ll call Chief Briggs personally and get him involved, if he isn’t already. It’s wonderful that we finally know what she used. The only thing left to do is be sure she doesn’t have a chance to implicate Ashlyn in her “fall” down the stairs.

As we stand outside in the warm night air, I feel my anger dissipating. My shoulders drop, and I take a deep breath. It’s true what I read about anger. Anger can benefit relationships, even though society tells us anger is dangerous and we should hide it. Hidden anger in intimate relationships can be detrimental, that’s for sure. But it’s also true that all emotions have a purpose and evolve to keep us safe. Anger is instinctual. It fuels our primitive need to live and protect ourselves. Anger sharpens our focus, pushes us to fight back when attacked and act to defend ourselves.

It’s human nature.

My thoughts drift to my nemesis, Tish. I wonder who they will find to make decisions about her situation. I happen to know it won’t be good old George Price. As his name implies, everyone has one.

CHAPTER 65

ASHLYN

Mom and I ride home in silence from the hospital, neither of us want to say anything in front of the Uber driver. My whole body aches and trembles, off and on, in waves.

Once we’re out of the car and safely inside the house, Mom turns on the alarm and looks at me.

“You thought she was going to kill me, so you made a move. It was the right thing to do,” she says, her voice calm, loving. “I couldn’t get past the anger, the hurt, with your dad. You understand now, don’t you?”

“I think so,” I answer, as the shaking starts again.

“It doesn’t matter. Tish as much as confessed to killing your father, I have our whole talk recorded on my phone. I even have a photo of the bowl of cherries she served. We’ll be in the clear and finally finished with her, once and for all. Thanks to you. You did the right thing. You did.”

I wish I believed her. How can almost killing someone be the right thing?

“Mom, you’re the one who called and expedited Dad’s death certificate. You made sure he was cremated, right?” I ask.

“Everything I did was for you,” Mom says. “Tish was a monster. Remember that.”

I do know Tish is a monster. But I also know my mom has been manipulating things behind the scenes, like expediting the death certificate. But Mom was flirting with Dad before he died, even though she’s told me she’d never welcome him back home. Did she hate Tish so much she simply wanted to sabotage their relationship? Is that what this is all about? Mom lured Dad back to her, but she didn’t want him.

Who am I to judge, though? I’ve been torturing Tish with the apps, and I’ve been snooping around in her past. She told me to leave her alone, and she’d do likewise. But I kept pushing her, and that’s when she lashed out, almost running me over and sabotaging my car. She fought fire with fire.

So, what was I doing when I pushed Tish down the stairs? Was that the result of all the fire, or was I protecting my mom? What was I thinking? I search my memory and the moment is gone, only the feeling of danger and that my mom was going to be hurt. I remember my heart pounding in my chest, a rushing sound in my ears. I’d waited in the shadows on the side of Tish’s yard until my mom arrived. When she got out of the car, I ran around the back of the house, ducking under the kitchen windows. That’s when I saw it: the pitcher of margaritas just like the one in the photo my dad sent me his last night alive.

I knew I had to save my mom.

I’d climbed the trellis, muscle memory kicking in from all of my high school escape antics. I pushed open the unlocked window and slipped inside my bedroom. When I tiptoed across the room and opened the door to the hall, I heard women’s voices from downstairs.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I knew it was my mom and Tish. I crept to the top of the stairs and from there could see the white couch where they sat. Tish’s back was to me. I couldn’t see my mom. They kept talking and then Tish signed something, and before I knew it, they were coming toward the stairs.

My heart raced as I ran back to my room and hid in the space behind my open bedroom door.

Why were they coming upstairs? Did they know I was here? No, that was impossible. I remember feeling angry with both of them. How could they be laughing and chatting after everything that has happened? When my dad is gone forever and Tish killed him.

So when I saw Tish at the top of the stairs, decked out in all the jewelry my dad could buy her, I felt a rage like I’ve never felt before. Something inside me ignited as I ran down the hall and gave the monster a shove.

Does this mean that now I’m one, too?

CHAPTER 66

KATE