Chapter 3 - THE NIGHT CATHERINE DIED
Andrew had been eight years old when his mother died.
Most of his memory came in fragments.
Rain against the windows.
His father shouting into a phone.
Lucinda arriving after midnight and pulling him against her.
Someone telling him his mother’s boat had overturned.
He remembered asking whether Catherine had been scared.
Nobody answered.
By morning, Lucinda had become the person holding his hand.
For forty-five years, Andrew believed she had arrived after the accident.
Michael told him that was false.
They remained inside the conservatory while Alex sat beside Elizabeth with the stuffed rabbit in his lap.
Andrew did not want his son hearing every detail.
But he also refused to send him away with a lie.
Michael spoke carefully.
Catherine Caruso had not been alone at the lake.
Lucinda went with her.
The sisters had argued for weeks.
Catherine wanted to take Andrew away from the Caruso estate.
Not away from his father permanently.
Away from Salvatore’s control.
Andrew was becoming frightened of the men around the house.
He had started mimicking their threats at school.
Catherine wanted several months somewhere quieter.
Lucinda considered that betrayal.
“She believed Mrs. Caruso was trying to make you weak,” Michael said.
Andrew’s jaw tightened.
The same word.
Again.
On the afternoon of the accident, Catherine drove to the family lake house.
Lucinda followed.
Michael was a young driver then.
He took Lucinda.
“Why did you never tell me?”
Michael’s face hardened with shame.
“Your father ordered me not to.”
Andrew looked away.
Michael continued.
The women took the small boat onto the lake.
Nobody knew why.
The weather worsened.
An hour later Lucinda returned alone.
Soaked.
Bleeding slightly from one hand.
Wearing Catherine’s silver locket.
Andrew stared.
“Why?”
“She said your mother gave it to her before the boat tipped.”
“Did you believe her?”
Michael took too long.
“No.”
Lucinda told everyone Catherine slipped while trying to stand.
The boat rocked.
Both women fell into the water.
Lucinda reached the shore.
Catherine did not.
Search crews recovered the body several hours later.
No one questioned the story publicly.
But Michael heard Lucinda talking to Salvatore that night.
“She kept saying, ‘I only held her because she was leaving.’”
Andrew’s face changed.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Dad?”
Michael looked toward him.
“Yes.”
That answer hurt more.
Salvatore knew Lucinda had physically tried to stop Catherine from leaving.
He also knew Andrew had just lost his mother.
He decided the boy could not survive losing his aunt too.
So he buried every question.
Then he placed Andrew directly into Lucinda’s care.
Elizabeth’s hand went to her mouth.
Andrew looked toward Alex.
His son was staring at the greenhouse balcony.
A family pattern became visible all at once.
Catherine wanted to remove Andrew from Lucinda’s idea of strength.
Claire wanted to protect Alex from the same thing.
Both mothers died.
Both boys were left with Lucinda.
Andrew stood so quickly the recorder almost fell from his hand.
He walked back toward the main house.
Lucinda was waiting in the formal sitting room.
The severed pearls had been cleared away.
The scissors remained on the table where Andrew left them.
Lucinda looked at his face and knew.
“Michael talked.”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
Andrew remained several feet away.
“You were at the lake.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me for forty-five years.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill my mother?”
Lucinda looked directly at him.
“No.”
Andrew’s expression did not move.
She continued.
Catherine wanted to leave.
Lucinda followed her to the lake house because she believed the decision had been made during an argument and would pass.
The sisters fought.
Catherine accused Lucinda of loving Andrew like a possession.
Lucinda accused Catherine of turning him against the family.
Catherine went onto the lake alone.
Lucinda followed.
“Why?”
“To bring her back.”
“By force?”
Lucinda looked away.
Andrew’s voice lowered.
“By force?”
“Yes.”
Lucinda grabbed Catherine’s arm when she tried to move toward the other side of the boat.
Catherine pulled free.
The boat shifted.
Both women fell.
Lucinda surfaced near the overturned hull.
Catherine surfaced several feet away.
For a moment both were alive.
Andrew could barely breathe.
“What happened?”
Lucinda’s lips trembled.
“Your mother was a stronger swimmer.”
“Then why did she die?”
Lucinda started crying.
Because Catherine swam back.
Lucinda had become tangled in a rope from the overturned boat.
Catherine returned to free her.
“She saved you.”
“Yes.”
Lucinda’s voice broke.
“Then a wave hit us.”
Catherine disappeared beneath the hull.
Lucinda tried to reach her.
Could not.
That was Lucinda’s version.
Maybe true.
Maybe not completely.
Then Andrew asked about the necklace.
Lucinda touched her own throat unconsciously.
“Catherine gave it to me before we went onto the water.”
“Why?”
Lucinda looked at him.
“She told me if anything happened, I had to give it to you.”
Andrew stared.
“You never did.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because inside it was something I didn’t want you to see.”
Andrew’s face hardened.
“What?”
Lucinda stood.
Then walked toward the old cabinet near the fireplace.
She opened a hidden drawer.
From the back she removed a small silver locket.
Andrew recognized it from photographs immediately.
His mother’s.
Lucinda placed it in his palm.
His hands shook as he opened it.
Inside was a tiny photograph.
Not of Andrew.
Not of Catherine.
Lucinda.
As a young woman.
On the opposite side, Catherine had written three words.
Please forgive her.
Andrew looked up.
May you like
Lucinda whispered:
“Your mother knew before she died that I had done something much worse than following her to the lake.”
