“I thought she was trying to cause trouble because Calvin insisted on discipline and had told her she couldn’t have her boyfriend in the house.” Sobs shattering her words. “That was the last proper conversation I had with my sister. She was so angry and hurt that I wouldn’t listen, and when she vanished, I thought she’d run off but would eventually come home. She knew I loved her, would always love her. But she never came home.”

Instead, Calvin had kept Sarah alive through emails to and gifts for Mia and Beau. “Sarah” had sent only one message to Diana:

I hate you. I never want to see you again.

The cruelty of it was incomprehensible.

“What about you?” Lily asked. “Did Calvin finally explain why he started screwing with your head?”

“It was all because of a comment I made soon after they found my mother—something about the rose garden. Apparently, I’d been looking at Calvin at the time.” I shrugged. “I can’t remember, but it made him see me as a threat. But what really pushed him over the edge and had him seriously upping the dosage was when Mia mentioned I’d been asking about Sarah.”

Calvin’s guilty conscience had done the rest.

Calvin Liu didn’t need much impetus. He killed anyone who might ruin his fantasy of the perfect family. As for my mother, it was as I’d theorized in the time since his arrest: Calvin had just returned home from a late surgery when he saw her walking groggily to her car. On any other night, Diana would’ve heard him arrive home—but she’d been so exhausted from being sick all day that she’d slept right through it.

He’d gotten my mother into the passenger seat by saying he’d take her to the hospital to get her head wound examined. My father’s handiwork. The glass shard that had hit her had done far more damage than he’d admitted. Then Calvin had taken her to that lonely spot and used the switchblade he kept on himself for protection on late-night runs to stab her to death.

My mother, already hurting and drowsy, had been a helpless victim.

After pushing the car down the slope, Calvin had run back, using that marathoner’s body to make the trek at speed. He’d hidden in the trees at one point when he heard a motorcycle; according to him, the driver didn’t appear to have a good handle on the powerful machine, and had been traveling at a crawl.

Me. Trying to find the woman Calvin had already murdered.

It all fit, but I couldn’t confirm it—my own memories of that night remained fragmented shards. “Cops found the knife Calvin used on my mother in his office at work,” I told Lily, “along with a chain that belonged to Dr. Mehr, and the name bracelet Diana gave Sarah for her sixteenth.”

Ugly trophies of evil.

“I bet you there was more.”

“A ring that didn’t belong to any of the three, as well as a scarf.”

Neri and Regan were digging through Calvin’s past for other suspicious deaths or disappearances.

“I told Diana I suspected it was her. Going after women who she thought were showing an interest in her husband. Do you know what she said?” When Lily shook her head, I repeated Diana’s words: “‘I loved Sarah so much that I would’ve forgiven her even if she’d had an affair with Calvin.’”

Her face far too thin, permanent bruises under her eyes, she’d hugged her arms tight around herself and added, “I’d do anything to have her back, but at least I’ve been able to bury her properly. And I’m glad I talked all the time to my roses. I used to talk about Sarah and about how much I missed and loved her.”

Diana hadn’t planted new roses after they’d removed her sister’s body. She’d put up a For Sale sign instead.

“I suppose he’s still pretending he donated the money anonymously to domestic-violence charities.”

“In small sums.” Part of me believed him. The rest wondered if the quarter million he’d found accidentally when he hit the wrong switch and the boot popped open had become his freedom when it came to his affairs—no need to hide spending, no need to cover up a paper trail.

“It’s done.” Lily looked out at the breathtaking alpine scenery that surrounded us in the mountains of a city that had once been the residence of kings.

A fitting resting place for a woman as dazzling as any queen.

But as I looked over this landscape, I couldn’t help but wonder if my mother’s spirit would linger on in the cold green place that had been her tomb for a decade.

Oh, Ari. Laughter on the breeze, a ghost’s kiss on my cheek. I was never trapped, mere dil ka tukda. That was always you.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A very special thank-you to my parents, Usha and Vijay, for checking on my Hindi. Any mistakes are very definitely mine. (A note about transliteration: Since Hindi has its own alphabet, there are often variant spellings for things in the English alphabet. I tried to choose the most common spelling where I could, but otherwise just picked one and went with it.)

The Te Reo Māori in this book is from my own knowledge—most of the words are in everyday use in New Zealand.

A huge thank-you to the incredible team that worked on this book—and the equally incredible people who have helped spread the word about it. I can’t name you all, but I hope you know how much I appreciate you.

Thank you to Ashwini for being my sounding board even when I drive you up the wall. And to Rene, thank you for taking me on all those long and winding drives to find locations for fictional dark deeds.

Last but never least, my thanks to you, for picking up this book.

Nalini

Auckland, New Zealand