The Lies We Told by Camilla Way (best book recommendations txt) 📕

I thought she would go away for a few days, a week or so, and then she’d come back once she’d calmed down. And she was legally an adult. I couldn’t stop her. But she didn’t come back. We tried to look for her, but it was no use. And the next day Hannah called us, taunting us, telling us that she knew where Emily was, saying we deserved it, that she’d make us pay for the rest of our lives, that she’d drive each of you away from us, one by one.”

“You should have told me!” Tom cried. “You had no right to keep this from me!”

“We wanted to spare you. . . .”

“But you didn’t! You didn’t! Are you that crazy? Did you not think I suspected something? That I didn’t hear you and Dad talking in corners, whispering away when you thought Luke and I were in bed? Then one night I heard you say it outright. I heard you telling Dad it was his fault she had left, that Emily would never forgive him for what he’d done, that she’d left because of him.”

Rose’s face fell. “You heard that?”

“Why do you think I couldn’t bear to be around you anymore? I knew you knew why Emily had gone. Guilt was written all over your faces. I was just a kid. I didn’t confront you, because . . . well, because I was fifteen—it was easier to get drunk, take drugs, stay out all night, bury my head in the sand. But I hated you—I bloody hated you for lying to me, for pretending you had no idea why our family had fallen apart.” He turned to his father. “I knew it was your fault, that you made her go. I just didn’t know why.”

Clara stared at him, suddenly everything that had confused her about him making sense, and she felt a rush of pity.

“And then when Luke went missing,” Tom continued, “again your reaction didn’t add up. Just like when Emily left, I could tell you were hiding something. It wasn’t shock or bewilderment I saw on your faces; it was guilt. I saw the looks that passed between you, and I overheard you, Dad, begging Mum’s forgiveness, promising that Luke would be okay. And when I asked you outright in that fucking kitchen, the day Clara and Mac came round, when I asked you if you knew where Luke was, you denied it! You lied! I knew you were lying. And now I know why. It’s her, isn’t it? The person who has Luke, it’s this fucking woman! Hannah, my half sister.”

Rose nodded miserably. “Yes,” she whispered.

“And does she know where Emily is?”

“We don’t know. Sometimes she likes to taunt us, telling us she does. Other times she denies all knowledge. We’ve never known what to believe.”

“What does she want from us? Why did she approach me in Manchester all those years ago?”

“Revenge,” said Oliver quietly. “And money. Once she’d made contact with you in Manchester, she phoned us constantly, telling us that she’d seen you, that she was going to tell you everything, that there was nothing we could do about it. That once she’d finished with you, you’d never want to see us again, would disappear from our lives just like your sister. She told us that it was all going to come out . . . my affair, giving her away as a baby, the ridiculous lies about her mother’s supposed murder, all of it. She knew she couldn’t prove any of it to the police, so hurting us through you kids was the best way she could think of to punish us. We were trying to protect you from it all!”

“Jesus fucking Christ! And you didn’t think to tell me about it? You didn’t think I had a right to know about the nutcase who was hanging around me?”

Oliver hung his head. “We paid her a lot of money. Thousands and thousands of pounds to leave you alone. She was broke, homeless, a drifter. She’d . . . been in a lot of trouble throughout her life—drugs, prison. . . .”

“Prison?” Clara asked.

“We paid her the money and it worked. We didn’t hear from her for ten years. I hired a private detective to track her down, keep an eye on her. Her life . . . it spiraled: she was a junkie, a prostitute, constantly in trouble with the police. She was in no fit state to continue to wage her war against us, so she left us in peace for a time.”

Clara couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “This is your daughter. Your daughter! As much your flesh and blood as Emily! Didn’t you care? Didn’t you feel any guilt, any responsibility for this woman? Jesus, Oliver! I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” Oliver kept his head bent, unable to meet her gaze. She felt a burning dislike for him.

“But why after ten years did she get it together to go after Luke?” Mac asked then. “It doesn’t make sense. Why now?”

Rose shook her head. “We don’t know.”

Tom drained his glass of wine. “When did you guess that Hannah was behind Luke’s disappearance?” he asked.

Oliver glanced at him. “Hannah sent us a picture of him, saying he was with her. She said that she wanted more money, that if we didn’t give it to her, she’d hurt him. So we gave her what she asked for; then she said it wasn’t enough. She said if we paid her more, she’d let Luke go. We’ve been going out of our minds, Tom. We know it’s not really money she wants. She wants to torture us—this is her revenge. That’s why she’s keeping it going. The longer she can cause us pain, the better she likes it.”

“Why didn’t you tell the police?” Tom asked next. “Surely that was the first thing you should have done?”

“We didn’t dare!” Rose said. “She seems to know everything about us. Every move we make—when we speak to the police, what we talk about with them, our conversations or meetings with Clara, you name it—she