The Girl I Used to Be by Heidi Hostetter (that summer book .txt) 📕

are good that he’ll know what to do with it.” And even if the video wasn’t enough to trigger an investigation, Jill wanted Chase to know she’d tried. “If he doesn’t, he might know someone who does.”

“On it. Do you have an email for him?”

Jill rose to fetch a slip of paper from her camera bag: Ryan’s contact information. “Not directly, but if you use this one, I’m pretty sure Chase’ll get it.”

“Okay. I’ll send it right now.” Ellie turned her attention back to the screen.

As she returned to the couch, Jill’s cell phone rang with an incoming phone call. It was the real-estate office. “This is Jill.”

“Hello, Jillian, this is Sheri from the Manhattan Group.”

“Sheri, hi. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. And you will be too, in a minute.” Sheri’s voice was bright. “Seth asked me to call you with the good news. The client and his team finished their work sooner than they thought. He loves the house and wants to submit a formal offer. In fact, he and Seth are in the office writing it up now. Seth wants to present it to you tomorrow morning and asks if 8 a.m. at the house is convenient. Said he knows you’re an early bird,” she added with a chuckle.

She wasn’t, but that was okay. The important thing was the offer. Could this really be the end?

“Yes, of course,” Jill said. “I’ll be there.”

“Great. He’ll see you then.”

Jill disconnected the call and glanced at Ellie. “The house sold,” she said, stunned. “I’m supposed to meet the agent at the house tomorrow morning.”

“I’m totally going with you.”

Twenty-Six

Because traffic on the Garden State Parkway was unpredictable and the agent appointment was early in the morning, they decided to drive down right away and spend one final night in Dewberry Beach. The idea of staying at The Monstrosity didn’t bother Jill as much as the thought that this would be the last time she’d ever visit the town. Once the rest of its residents found out who she was, she wouldn’t be welcome.

They stopped for gas at a rest-stop on I95 and Ellie ran in for two coffees from The Dunk. As the rich scent filled the car, Jill’s thoughts turned to the morning she’d ordered coffee and muffins at Dewberry Beach, but she pushed them away. It was time for her to move on, and her new life wouldn’t include Dewberry Beach. It couldn’t. She paid the attendant for the gas and they continued on their way, the traffic unexpectedly light for a Friday afternoon.

“So this is it, huh?” Ellie asked as she pried the plastic lid from her coffee. “You get the offer tomorrow and you’re done? Do you know how much it is?”

“No, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll take anything that pays the mortgage and covers closing costs.”

“Jillian.” Ellie lowered her coffee cup and side-eyed Jill. “That house is worth a fortune. A huge house on two lots of oceanfront? I’ve seen the listing. The money you get from that could be a whole new start—you could literally do anything you want—and don’t you deserve that? After what Marc did to you?”

Jill flicked her blinker and passed the sturdy Volvo in front of her. How could she explain to Ellie what she couldn’t understand herself? That she’d come to appreciate Dewberry Beach and liked the people in it. That she understood why they hated Marc’s house so much, that it was a symbol of greed built by a man who’d swindled them. And she hated it too.

“No, I don’t want to profit from the sale.”

“So what’s left? Keeping it? I thought you couldn’t afford that?”

“Absolutely not. I can’t keep it,” Jill said quickly. “I can’t even afford the water bill in a house that big.”

“Okay, so if you had a choice…” Ellie waved her hand dramatically in the air, caught up in the game of “what-if.” “If you could magically make anything happen, what would you do with that house?”

“I’d raze it,” Jill said simply, and the truth of it surprised her. She told Ellie what Chase had told her that night at his house, and the things she’d overheard at the Yacht Club. Personal accounts of how horrific the hurricane had been and how Marc had made it so much worse. “That house will always be a reminder of how Marc cheated them and it’s painful for them to see it every day. Wouldn’t it be great to give them a do-over? After everything they’ve been through?”

“Yeah, I guess it would,” Ellie agreed. “It sounds as if you really like Dewberry Beach, Jilly.”

“I guess I do,” Jill replied. “The town, the people, they remind me of summers at Aunt Sarah’s.”

They drove in silence for a while, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Jill wondered about the art auction and if Brenda had found someone to fill her spot in the gallery. She remembered how carefully the volunteers had decorated the Yacht Club ballroom, the strings of white lights threaded through the tree branches outside, and she imagined their soft glow against the evening sky. It was a party and the whole town was invited. And then she wondered if Danny would be there.

“Isn’t that house of yours furnished? With high-end stuff? And appliances too?” Ellie asked abruptly. “What if you sold all of it to pay for bulldozers and dump trucks or whatever? You could demolish the house. Wouldn’t that work?”

Jill finished the last sip of coffee then returned her cup to the console. “Funny you should ask. I’ve thought of it myself, even went so far as to search resale markets to see how much the kitchen appliances are worth. In fact, I still have the list somewhere—on Marc’s desk at the Dewberry house, I think. Anyway, selling everything in that house, right down to the towels in the bathrooms and the platters in the butler pantry, would only be enough to pay off the mortgage. That still leaves the demolition, and I imagine