Page 67 of Quarter Miles (Runaway 3)

“She died of an overdose. Five years ago.”

No. Oh shit, no.

“I remember because it was the second weekend after I moved in with you. We were supposed to have everyone over for pizza.”

But she’d canceled because of a migraine. We’d rescheduled to another weekend. Except Kat didn’t get migraines, did she? That was the one and only time I recalled her having one, and at the time, I hadn’t realized it was a

lie.

“How?” I choked out. How had she died? How had Kat known?

“The sheriff came out that morning. I was at the lodge, weeding one of the flower beds. I’d thought he’d come to have coffee with your dad. Instead, he’d come to find me. To tell me that my mother had been found dead in her home two days prior.”

I stood, ready to hold her and tell her I was sorry, but she shook her head and took a step away. My feet froze.

“When her neighbor went through her things, she told me she found four thousand dollars cash in her purse. I never understood how, but now I know. The other thousand must have gone toward a plane ticket and however much it cost to flood her system with meth.”

Fuck me. My head spun and I sank down to the edge of the bed. I’d given Jessica the money she’d used to end her life. Horror coursed through my system. Despair and guilt clouded my vision. I dropped my head forward, my elbows on my knees. “Kat, I’m sorry.”

“She was clean before that. She’d changed her life.”

“What?” My head snapped up. “How do you know?”

“Gemma’s not the only one who can hire an investigator,” she said. “After I found out she’d died, I had to settle her estate. Not that there was much. And I wanted to know what her life had been like but I didn’t want to visit.”

So she’d hired an investigator. Meanwhile the rest of us hadn’t had a clue that she’d been carrying this burden alone.

Kat barked a mocking laugh. “Turns out, all she’d needed to get clean was for her daughter to abandon her. According to her records, she went to rehab about a year after I ran away from home. She stayed sober ever since. She worked at a local women’s shelter. She moved into a nicer neighborhood. One of her coworkers at the shelter told my investigator that Mom had spent years setting aside money to go to Montana. She’d just been too scared to make the trip.”

And I’d chased Jessica away.

I’d chased her back into the drugs that had cost her a daughter.

I’d chased her into a grave.

“I had her cremated and spread her ashes on Hangman Peak,” Kat whispered.

“You did?” Hangman Peak was one of the hardest hikes we offered to our guests, but the view at the top was worth every step. I made it a point to go up there at least twice a year.

She lifted a shoulder. “I thought she would have liked the view.”

“You went alone?” Why hadn’t she asked me or anyone else to go with her?

“Alone means people won’t disappoint me.” She leveled me with a glare. “How could you?”

“I’m sorry.” I stood again but she took another step away. “I’m so, so sorry. It was a mistake.”

“You stole my chance to see her.”

“I didn’t know you’d want to.”

Her stare narrowed. “That doesn’t make it right.”

“I know.” I held up my hands. “Tell me what I can do. Please.”

Kat didn’t answer. Instead, she flew past me, going to the dresser and opening the top drawer. She scooped out the clothes she’d put in there when we’d arrived and rushed to the bed, flipping open her suitcase and dropping them inside. Then she did the same with the second drawer.

“Kat.”