if it burned as it fell down his throat. The other glass he pushed toward me. I said nothing, shaking my head once. The last time I’d touched that stuff, it hadn’t ended well.
Granted, I wasn’t at a party with people who wanted to make a fool out of me and have me attacked, but still.
We sat there in silence for a long while, Ollie sipping from his glass while I waited, biting the inside of my cheek. When he finished his glass, he gestured at the second, at the one he’d poured for me. I shook my head, and he took it, finishing it off in a few moments.
“So,” Ollie finally spoke once both glasses were emptied, “care to tell me what’s been going on? Clearly there’s a lot.”
Sharing everything that had happened to me while in Midpark was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew I had to. I knew that, in order to move on from this, in order to avoid being charged and thrown in prison for the murder of a Midpark socialite, I had to tell him everything.
But, you know what? If I had to tell him everything, it was only fair that he tell me things, too. I deserved to know the truth, didn’t I? It kind of felt like I’d stepped in a mess of someone else’s making, clueless and blind. No one should feel like that, especially when murder charges were brought about.
Especially when people have died.
“Why don’t you tell me something first?” I suggested, rubbing my palms on my pants. It was early afternoon now, the sunlight bright as it streamed in through the windowpanes behind him.
Ollie looked at me, his mouth forming a thin line. What I’d said had clearly not been what he’d expected, for it took him far too long to say, “This is about you, Jaz.”
I plowed on, hoping, praying I’d get some form of an answer. To, at least, put one thing to rest in this crazy town. “What happened to Celeste and your sons? Where is your wife? What happened here?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“Then let me be honest,” I said, leaning forward. “I haven’t felt safe here from day one. I know everyone has their secrets, but in Midpark, it feels like everyone’s secrets are of the deadly variety, and now I’m wound up in the newest one.”
Ollie stared at me for a while, his expression falling as he reached for the glass bottle again. He poured himself another glass—and this time, he downed the entire glass like a shot. A shot that burned his throat and made him wince, but a shot all the same.
I shifted in my seat, crossing my legs as I waited. I knew I’d seen him and my mom sharing wine one day, but this…this was a different sort of drinking. This was desperation, a man who was finally about to confess whatever truth he’d been hiding.
And, you know what? It was even worse than I thought.
“What I’m about to tell you,” Ollie started, his voice low, “you can not tell another soul. Do you understand? No one else. Not even your mother.” His voice was so quiet, I knew that if my mom still stood in the hall, hoping to eavesdrop, she wouldn’t be able to. The office was a big one, its door made of solid wood. This was as private as we could get.
My voice caught in the back of my throat, so all I could do was nod.
It was enough. Ollie heaved a sigh, and then he began the story of what happened years past, what legacy I’d unknowingly stepped into, “How much do you know about Celeste Chambers?”
“I know she was kidnapped for years, and that you were her stepfather when she escaped.”
Ollie’s blue eyes looked sad, washed-out and downright exhausted. He stared at the empty glass before him, his finger tracing the rim absentmindedly as he said, “I like to think I did my best with them, I really do. I thought raising them with love and routine would help steer them, but their predispositions were stronger than I knew.”
My eyebrows furrowed, and I asked, “Who are you talking about?”
“Zane and Thorne,” he said, “my sons. My wife, Lorelei, had…some instabilities. She came from a well-known family in Midpark. They’d all but kicked her out, practically disowned her, because she was too unstable. I thought I could help her. I got her a therapist, had her