I Left Them in Grief Chapter 05

I Left Them in Grief Chapter 05

The Fourth of July, Brennon was hosting a dinner party at the main house–business heavyweights, old

money, the usual crowd.

It also happened to be Selah’s birthday. To mark the occasion, he’d poured an obscene amount of money into renovating the place. The tabloids covered it for three straight days.

I sat at the Ashford Estate, doing my hair and makeup, and waited for midnight.

I’d checked the safety gear for the staged fall more times than I could count.

Weeks earlier, under the cover of a doctor’s visit, I’d driven deep into the mountains and worked with a

professional until I knew exactly how to clear a drop without taking real damage.

When the time came, Maeve and I loaded everything into the car, changed into clothes that covered every identifying feature, and went back inside.

Maeve carried the decoy urn. I went through the jewelry Brennon had given me over the years and picked out a pair of earrings I’d worn constantly–dropped them in.

My eyes drifted to the corner of the desk. The old love letters. The paper had gone yellow at the edges, his handwriting faded but still legible: [I love you.]

Looking at them now made my stomach turn.

I picked them up and tore them apart without hesitating, let the pieces fall into the trash.

“It’s time,” Maeve said, checking her watch. “We’ll miss the flight.”

I nodded and crossed to the window.

The night air drifted in, cool against my skin. Standing on the ledge, I let myself remember–fragments of us, of what I’d believed we were. The good years, or the years I’d thought were good.

Then I let them go.

I closed my eyes and jumped.

The impact came fast–a hard thud against the padding below, loud enough to sell it. Maeve was down in seconds. We staged the scene together, quick and practiced.

She called 911 in a panic, voice shaking just right. Then she contacted the funeral home and set the rest in

motion.

I got in the car and drove. I didn’t stop until I reached our arranged meeting point, and I waited there.

A day later, Maeve finished everything and found me.

Before she left the estate for the last time, she made sure there’d be nothing left to find–she burned the

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place down.

I looked back once at the road leading to the Ashford Estate.

The party was still going. No one knew yet.

By the time they noticed the smoke, there’d be nothing left but ash and an empty lot.

I gripped the steering wheel, and for the first time in years, something in my chest felt clean.

“Mrs. Ashford-”

“I’m not Mrs. Ashford anymore.” I turned the key and pulled onto the road. “I am just Maren. No family, no

ties, no history. We’re starting over somewhere no one knows us.”

I read about the rest in the news, later.

Maeve’s fire sent everything into chaos.

Brennon had been mid–toast at the party–standing in front of a room full of Westmont’s elite, Selah beside

him, their glasses raised–when Graham shoved through the crowd and grabbed his arm.

“The estate’s on fire. Mr. Ashford–the firefighters are on scene, but they can’t find Mrs. Ashford or the

housekeeper.”

Brennon stopped mid–sentence.

He shoved Selah aside without thinking and ran.

By the time he got there, the building had collapsed into itself, walls blackened and still smoking.

“Where is she?” He was screaming. “My wife was in there–why aren’t you looking, why aren’t you going in-”

He tried to rush the wreckage. Selah caught him from behind, arms locked around him, pulling back with everything she had.

“Brennon, stop–the structure’s not stable, you’ll get yourself killed.” Her voice broke. “Maybe she got out. Maybe she’s already safe somewhere.”

Elodie was sobbing so hard she could barely stand. Callum had both arms around Brennon, holding on.

“Dad, please. If something happened to Mom-” His voice cracked. “You’re all we have left. Please don’t go in there.”

They held him back. He let them, eventually.

He just stood there, staring at the wreckage.