Claire had been frantic that day, her words tumbling out so fast and wild that no one really paid attention to when she said, “The car lost control.”
But Madeline, blind and forced to rely on her ears, had caught it right away.
“Are you saying you think someone tampered with the car?” she asked.
“I mean, it’s possible. I can’t say for sure, but…” Madeline’s voice trailed off, her tone serious.
Shelly shook her head. “The car leaked fuel, then exploded. It was burned so badly that when the police looked into it, there was nothing left to find. They ruled it an accident. Maybe Claire was just freaked out and blurted that out. The dashcam didn’t pick up anything weird. Nothing pointed to the car being out of control.”
Madeline looked thoughtful, her expression filling with concern. “It’s just a theory. I really don’t know.”
The driver had died. Brian had died. And Claire, she was the only one who walked away from that wreck.
So if there were any answers left, they were locked up inside Claire’s mind.
But the way Claire was now, burning with resentment toward the Grayson family—and especially toward Shelly and Madeline—she’d rather keep her secrets, even if it meant swallowing them for good.
Shelly let out a soft sigh. “Maybe it really was just an accident. Thirteen years have passed, Maddie. Time blurs so many things… The police settled things back then. Even if you do suspect something, where would you even start?”
“No, Mom, as long as Claire’s still around, maybe there’s a chance we could find out what really happened.”
“Madeline, please don’t do anything reckless.” Shelly looked at her daughter, worry shining in her eyes.
Madeline understood where her mother was coming from. The accident was a wound that never healed for the Graysons. Digging it up again would just add to their pain.
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