Chapter 37 THE DINNER PARTY

Chapter 37 THE DINNER PARTY
CHAPTER

THE DINNER PARTY

Sienna's POV

I arrive at Ethan's house at exactly five PM.

The driveway is empty except for his car and Julia's. Nobody else is here yet. Good. That gives me time to prepare. Time to breathe. Time to figure out how to survive the next few hours.

I sit in my car for a full minute. Phone in my hand. Detective Chen's number pulled up. One call and this ends. One call and police arrive and I never have to face Catherine or Margaret or anyone else who might want me dead.

But then I'd never know the truth. Never understand why. Never get closure.

I put the phone away. Get out. Walk to the door. Ring the bell.

Ethan answers immediately. Smile wide. Eyes bright. He looks happy. Really happy. Not the broken man from two years ago or the cautious friend from last year. Just happy.

"You came early. Thank you."

"Wouldn't miss it."

He pulls me into a hug. Quick. Friendly. Then steps back. "Julia's upstairs getting ready. Come in. I'll make coffee."

I follow him inside. The house looks different than last time I was here. More lived in. Kids toys scattered across the living room floor. Photos on the walls. Evidence of an actual family instead of just two people sharing space.

"How's work?" he asks while making coffee.

"Busy. The second book is doing well. Publisher wants a third."

"About what?"

"Still figuring that out."

Lie. I know exactly what the third book will be about. Attempted murder. Family secrets. Twenty years of danger hiding in plain sight. But I can't tell him that. Not yet. Not until I know for sure.

"Julia wants to tell you the news herself," Ethan says. "But I couldn't wait. We're having another baby. Due in six months."

"That's wonderful Ethan. Really."

"We wanted you to know first. Before family. Before friends. Because you matter. You've always mattered."

Something in my chest clenches. Ethan is good. Too good. He doesn't deserve to find out his mother might be a murderer. Doesn't deserve to have his family destroyed. Doesn't deserve any of this.

"Can I ask you something?" I say.

"Anything."

"Your mother. What was she like twenty years ago? Before I knew the family?"

He pauses with coffee cup halfway to his mouth. "That's random."

"I'm researching family histories. For the next book. Trying to understand how families work. How they evolve. How they hide things."

"Mom twenty years ago was the same as Mom now. Controlled. Proper. Obsessed with appearances. Why?"

"Did she have any siblings? Anyone who might have caused problems?"

"She has a sister. Margaret. But they don't talk much. Some falling out years ago. Before I was born even. Family drama that nobody talks about."

Margaret. Catherine's sister. Not sister in law. Actual sister.

My blood runs cold. "What kind of falling out?"

"I don't know. Mom never talks about it. But I know Margaret married some guy Mom hated. And after that they basically cut contact. We see her maybe once a year at holidays. Always awkward. Always tense."

"Will she be here tonight?"

"Yeah. Mom insisted. Said it's time to repair family relationships. Julia wasn't thrilled but you know how Mom gets. What she wants she gets."

"Right. What she wants she gets."

Julia comes downstairs before Ethan can ask why I'm suddenly interested in his mother's family drama. She's glowing. Literally glowing. Pregnancy looks good on her.

"Sienna. I'm so glad you came early. I wanted to tell you in person." She takes my hands. "We're having another baby. Ethan told you already didn't he?"

"He did. Congratulations. Both of you. You deserve this."

"Thank you for being part of our lives. For not letting the divorce ruin our friendship. Not everyone would be that mature."

Guilt crawls up my spine. I'm not here because I'm mature. I'm here because I need to investigate whether Ethan's mother tried to murder me. That's not maturity. That's survival disguised as friendship.

"When do other people arrive?" I ask.

"Six thirty. So we have an hour and a half. Want to help with food prep? I could use the company."

"Sure."

We go to the kitchen. Julia pulls out vegetables. Hands me a knife. We chop in companionable silence.

"Can I tell you something?" Julia says after a few minutes.

"Of course."

"Ethan still loves you. Not romantically. But you're important to him. And I'm okay with that. I'm not threatened. I just want you to know that you're welcome here. Always. No matter what."

Tears burn behind my eyes. "Thank you. That means more than you know."

"He told me about Morgan. About what happened. About the kidnapping. I can't imagine going through that. Can't imagine surviving it."

"You do what you have to do."

"Still. You're brave. Braver than I would be."

"You'd be surprised what you can survive when you have no other choice."

The doorbell rings at six fifteen. Early arrivals. Ethan goes to answer. I hear voices. Laughter. People entering.

Adrian's voice. His girlfriend. Someone else I don't recognize.

Julia wipes her hands. "Showtime. You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

We walk into the living room. Adrian sees me first. Smile genuine. Not forced. We've come a long way from enemies to something resembling friends.

"Sienna. Good to see you."

"You too."

His girlfriend extends her hand. "I'm Rachel. I've heard so much about you."

"All good I hope."

"All complicated. Which is more interesting than good."

I like her already.

More people arrive over the next fifteen minutes. Ethan's friends. Julia's family. The house fills with noise and warmth and normalcy.

Then at exactly six forty five Catherine Harrington walks through the door.

She's the same as I remember. Perfectly styled hair. Expensive clothes. Smile that doesn't reach her eyes. Presence that demands attention without asking for it.

Behind her is another woman. Older. Similar features but harder edges. Margaret.

They're sisters. Actual sisters. And one of them might have tried to kill me.

Catherine sees me. Smile widens. Arms open. "Sienna. Darling. It's been too long."

She hugs me. I force myself not to stiffen. Not to pull away. Not to show any sign that I know what I know.

"Good to see you Catherine."

"You look wonderful. Healthy. Happy. I'm so glad you've recovered from that terrible ordeal with Morgan."

"Thank you."

Margaret steps forward. Extends her hand. "I don't think we've met properly. I'm Margaret. Catherine's sister."

"Sienna."

"I know who you are. The writer. The survivor. Catherine talks about you often."

"Does she?"

"Oh yes. She thinks of you almost like a daughter. Even after everything with Adrian and Ethan. She still cares deeply."

The words feel like a test. Like she's watching to see how I react. Like she knows I know something.

"That's kind of her," I say carefully.

We move into the dining room. The table is set beautifully. Name cards at each place. I'm between Adrian and one of Julia's friends. Directly across from Catherine and Margaret.

Perfect. I'll be staring at them all night.

Dinner starts with small talk. Weather. Work. Julia's pregnancy. Safe topics. Easy conversations. Nobody mentions rivers or inheritances or attempted murder.

Then between the salad and the main course Catherine looks directly at me.

"I heard you're writing another book. What's it about?"

Every eye at the table turns to me. I set down my fork. Meet her gaze.

"Family secrets. How the past shapes the present. How things we think are buried always resurface eventually."

"Sounds dark."

"It's honest. Sometimes honesty is dark."

"And sometimes honesty is dangerous. Some secrets are kept for good reasons."

"Like what reasons?"

"Like protecting people. Like preventing pain. Like understanding that not everything needs to be revealed."

Margaret leans forward. "What kind of family secrets are you writing about?"

"Inheritance disputes. Money that tears families apart. Attempts to eliminate people who stand in the way."

Dead silence. Everyone at the table goes still.

Catherine's smile doesn't waver. "That does sound dramatic. Based on real events?"

"Inspired by them."

"Anyone we know?"

"Hard to say. Money makes people do terrible things. Even good people. Even family."

"Indeed it does." Margaret's voice is cold. "But accusation without proof is just slander."

"I agree. That's why I'm researching thoroughly. Making sure everything is accurate. Making sure I have all the facts before I publish."

"And do you? Have all the facts?"

"Getting closer every day."

Adrian interrupts before the tension can escalate further. "Can we talk about literally anything else? This conversation is depressing."

Everyone laughs. Tension breaks. Conversation shifts to safer topics. But Catherine and Margaret don't stop watching me. Don't stop calculating. Don't stop evaluating whether I'm a threat.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Text from Detective Chen.

Detective Chen: You okay? It's been thirty minutes.

Me: Fine. Tense but fine.

Detective Chen: Anything suspicious?

Me: They're testing me. Trying to figure out what I know.

Detective Chen: Don't give them anything. Just survive dinner and get out.

Me: That's the plan.

I slip my phone back in my pocket. Look up to find Margaret staring at me.

"Everything alright?" she asks.

"Just work. My editor checking in."

"At seven PM on a Saturday?"

"Publishing doesn't respect weekends."

"Neither does guilt."

The word hangs in the air. Guilt. Like she's accusing me of something. Like she knows I'm lying.

"What would I have to feel guilty about?" I ask.

"I don't know. What would you?"

"Margaret." Catherine's voice cuts through the tension. "Stop being rude. Sienna is a guest."

"Of course. My apologies."

But the damage is done. Lines have been drawn. Everyone at the table knows something is wrong even if they don't know what.

Dinner continues. Main course. Dessert. Coffee. Small talk that feels increasingly strained. I check my phone every thirty minutes like Detective Chen instructed. Each time I look up Margaret is watching.

Finally at nine thirty people start leaving. Thank yous and goodbyes and promises to do this again soon. I head toward the door with everyone else.

Catherine catches my arm. "Walk me to my car? I'd love to chat privately."

Every instinct screams no. But saying no makes me look guilty. Makes me look scared. So I nod.

"Of course."

We walk outside together. The night is cool. Dark. Her car is parked at the end of the driveway. Far from the house. Far from witnesses.

My hand closes around my phone in my pocket. One button press and Detective Chen gets an alert. One press and help arrives.

Catherine stops halfway to her car. Turns to face me. Moonlight makes her face look harder. Older. More dangerous.

"I know what you're doing," she says quietly.

"What am I doing?"

"Investigating. Digging. Trying to uncover something that happened a long time ago."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. Morgan's journals. The photographs. The inheritance. Your grandmother. Margaret. All of it."

My blood runs cold. "How do you know about the journals?"

"Because I've been watching you. Just like someone else watched you twenty years ago. Just like someone will keep watching until you stop asking questions."

"Was it you? Did you push me into that river?"

"No. But I know who did. And I know why. And I know that revealing it will destroy more lives than just mine."

"Then tell me. Tell me the truth and maybe I'll consider keeping it quiet."

"You won't keep it quiet. You're a writer. You turn trauma into books. You expose secrets for profit. That's what you do."

"So you're admitting there's a secret to expose."

"I'm admitting that some things are better left in the past. Your grandmother's inheritance went to your father. He built a good life. You're alive. Your family is safe. Leave it at that."

"Someone tried to kill me. I deserve to know why."

"Sometimes deserving something doesn't mean getting it. Sometimes survival means accepting what you can't change."

"I'm not accepting attempted murder."

"Then you're choosing to put everyone you love in danger. Ethan. Adrian. Julia. Their children. Everyone connected to this family. Because if this comes out we all go down. Not just Margaret and I. Everyone."

"So it was Margaret. She pushed me."

Catherine's expression doesn't change. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"Sienna. I'm asking you as someone who once cared about you. As someone who welcomed you into this family. As someone who knows what it's like to carry impossible secrets. Let this go. Write a different book. Move on with your life."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I can't protect you. And neither can anyone else."

She walks to her car. Gets in. Drives away. Leaves me standing in the dark driveway with confirmation that Margaret tried to kill me and Catherine knows.

My phone buzzes. Detective Chen.

Detective Chen: Forty five minutes. What's happening?

Me: Catherine just admitted she knows who pushed me. Basically confirmed it was Margaret. Threatened me to keep quiet.

Detective Chen: Get out of there now. I'm sending units.

Me: She's already gone. I'm alone.

Detective Chen: Stay in public. Don't go home. Come to my office.

Me: On my way.

I start walking toward my car. Footsteps behind me make me spin around.

Margaret stands ten feet away. Hands in her coat pockets. Face unreadable in the darkness.

"We need to talk," she says.

"About what?"

"About why you're still alive. And whether that's going to change."

She pulls her hand from her pocket. Not empty. Holding something. Something small. Something metal.

A gun.

My heart stops. "Margaret don't."

"Twenty years ago I made a mistake. I pushed you but you survived. I should have tried again. Should have finished what I started. But I was young and scared and I thought maybe you'd forget. Maybe it would just be an accident in your memory."

"Why did you do it? Why did you try to kill me?"

"Because two million dollars was supposed to be mine. My grandmother promised me. But she changed her will at the last minute. Gave everything to your father instead. And I was left with nothing. So I decided to eliminate the heirs. Starting with you."

"I was fifteen."

"You were in the way. That's all that mattered."

"And now?"

"Now you're still in the way. Still asking questions. Still threatening to expose everything. So I'm finishing what I started."

She raises the gun. Points it at my chest. Her hand is steady. No hesitation. Just cold calculation.

I close my eyes. Wait for the shot.

It doesn't come.

Instead I hear a voice. "Drop the weapon. Now."

Detective Chen. Gun drawn. Badge visible. Three uniformed officers behind her.

Margaret doesn't move. Doesn't lower her weapon. Just stands there calculating odds.

"It's over Margaret," Detective Chen says. "Drop the gun and put your hands up."

"If I drop the gun you'll arrest me."

"If you don't drop the gun we'll shoot you. Your choice."

Margaret looks at me. Then at the gun. Then back at Detective Chen.

Finally she lowers the weapon. Sets it on the ground. Puts her hands up.

Officers swarm. Cuff her. Read her rights. Take her away.

I collapse against my car. Legs shaking. Heart racing. Breathing too fast.

Detective Chen holsters her weapon. Comes over. "You okay?"

"She was going to kill me. Right here. Right now."

"But she didn't. You're alive. She's going to prison. It's over."

"Is it? What about Catherine? She knew. She helped cover it up."

"We'll investigate. Get her statement. See what charges fit. But right now let's focus on getting you somewhere safe."

Ethan runs out of the house. "What the hell is happening? Why are there police cars?"

I look at him. At his confused face. At the man who's about to find out his aunt tried to murder me and his mother covered it up.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I'm so sorry."

Then everything goes black.