CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
“Please, be careful going down.”
Cassie heard Nina’s worried voice, but it seemed to come from far away. She staggered down a step, hanging onto the railing with all her strength.
“We need—we need to see.”
The stairs seemed endless, dizzying. Her shell-shocked gaze focused on tiny details along the way.
A few strands of dark, wavy hair were lying on the marble.
A smudge of red. Blood, or lipstick? It looked dark and rusty against the pale surface.
A silver spike—it took a moment for Cassie to realize it was one of the heels from those stylish boots. It had snapped off, and was lying halfway down the marble stairway.
Below it, a few crumbs of glass glinted. Where were they from?
Another step down, and Cassie gasped as she saw Ms. Rossi’s face.
Her eyes were wide and unseeing. Her mouth was open, motionless, and the trickle of blood from her nose had dried to a dark rust. After the physical fight, Cassie was still gasping for air, but Ms. Rossi’s chest was still. She didn’t look to be breathing at all.
Her left arm was twisted at a terrible angle, and the face of her gold watch was smashed.
Cassie stared down at her, dazed, unable to take in the truth of what she was seeing.
She remembered her own extended arms, the way she’d changed her grip. She’d been intending to grab and hold the other woman’s neck, but then she’d bunched her hands together, as if intending to shove something, or someone, away. She didn’t remember actually making contact, though.
Ms. Rossi had been on the edge of the stairs. She’d overbalanced, despite Nina’s shouted warning. It hadn’t been—it couldn’t have been—that Cassie had read the situation and in a split second had cannoned her weight into the other woman and sent her tumbling and somersaulting all the way down this steep stairway.
Surely Ms. Rossi had fallen before Cassie could reach her? Her shoe must have been damaged in the fight, and the heel had broken, and she’d lurched backward and plummeted down the stairs.
Try as she might, a cold, insistent voice inside Cassie’s head kept telling her that it had not happened that way. That she had seized the moment and shoved the woman down the stairs with all her strength, wanting to hurt her and hoping that it would cause her lasting, permanent damage.
Realizing the full intent behind her actions, Cassie felt sobs rising inside her. Her chest heaved as the implications hit home. Ms. Rossi had fallen to her death, and Cassie had been the one who had pushed her.
Then she let out a cry as she realized the girls had seen everything. They had been fighting beside her. They’d watched their own mother die. Despite the abuse, the awful punishments, she was still their mother. The girls would blame her. Of course they would, regardless of what she had done to them in the past. The best thing Cassie could do, would be to call the police and give a full confession and turn herself in.
How could these young girls ever recover from what they had just witnessed?
Cassie blinked tears away. She couldn’t bear to look at that twisted corpse a moment longer—those sprawling limbs and blank, staring eyes, and that broken shoe. It represented the end of the road, the final result of her actions, from which there could be no return.
Cassie held her hands out in front of her again, and looked at her narrow palms and slim, tapered fingers.
Could they have pushed a woman to her death? Could she have done it?
Fearfully, Cassie raised her gaze and it traveled up the marble stairs. All the way at the top, she saw the two girls standing and watching her in silence.
Cassie took a trembling step up, and then another. She dreaded what would happen when she reached them. How would she break the news to these children? They must already suspect it, but be waiting for her to confirm the truth.
Bitter regret filled her. The consequences were irreversible. There was no going back from this and if she had been able to replay the scene at the top of the stairs, Cassie knew she would have done it differently, because the end of their mother’s life had changed the children’s lives, and hers, forever.
Her mind cringed away from the confrontation, the angry blame, and the screaming tears that would follow. She knew she didn’t have the strength to cope with it. No apology in the world could atone for the disaster that she had caused. She would have to summon the strength to survive the nightmare of the next few minutes. After that, the police could take charge.
The police would ask questions which she would need to answer. How would she reply to them when she herself could not clearly remember what had occurred?
Cassie reached the top step. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look the children in the eye. They deserved her honesty and full disclosure about what had happened and how. She would have to shoulder the responsibility. There was no other option.
“Girls,” she said. Her voice was nothing more than a breathy whisper.
Nina looked up at her and Cassie saw nothing but trust in her wide, brown eyes.
“Girls, I’m so sorry. So very sorry. Your mother is dead.”
The silence that followed rang in her ears.
She saw the children turn to each other and exchange that glance she was used to seeing, as if they were silently confirming something between the two of them.
Then Nina looked up at her again.
“I know,” she agreed somberly. “She is not moving and definitely dead. I think we should clean up the mess before anyone sees.”
Cassie felt her mouth fall open as she stared down at the young girl who regarded her, solemn and calm.
Was she hallucinating after this terrible experience? Or had Nina really suggested that they cover up the evidence of the fight?
Nina must be in shock, Cassie decided. Probably she
