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  Mom hesitated, staring at Lily as if she were speaking a foreign language.

  “Goddamn it, Mom, call the cops. Do it now!”

  Standing at Lily’s side, Sky gasped and backed away. Shame coursed through Lily. She never raised her voice. She never used that kind of language. That was his way. She knelt down and wrapped her baby in her arms. Lily needed to remember who she was, not what he’d tried to make her. She stared up at Mom, her voice low and measured.

  “Please, Mom. We need the police!”

  Her words seemed to trigger something in her mother, who sprang into action. Mom disappeared into the dining room and a moment later, Lily heard her on the phone, speaking in a hushed but frenzied whisper to the 911 operator. Lily held Sky close, trying to keep her calm.

  “It’s okay, Chicken. We’re good. We’re safe now. We’ll get warm and dry. We’ll get some food. We’re safe here. Nothing bad is going to happen. Not anymore.”

  Lily almost believed those words until she glanced up and saw the strange man standing on the landing that led to the upstairs. Tall, with salt-and-pepper hair and a matching beard, he was clad in only a pair of too-tight plaid boxers, his middle-aged spread on full display.

  Lily opened her mouth and screamed, letting loose all the terror and desperation she’d kept bottled up. The man took a startled step back. Before he could gather his wits and come after them, Lily jumped to her feet. Dragging a wailing Sky behind her, she ran into the kitchen. She headed straight to the counter and opened all the drawers, tossing out spatulas and rolling pins, until she located the biggest, sharpest knife she could find. She turned toward the landing, pointing it at the man, mentally daring him to come toward her. This was her house. Her home.

  I’m in control now, Lily thought. I’m in control.

  CHAPTER SIX

  EVE

  Lily’s piercing scream startled Eve.

  “Oh my God,” she said as she leaned down to retrieve the phone, her panicked plea to the 911 operator interrupted.

  “Ma’am, what’s going on? Hello? Ma’am?”

  Eve was cursing herself. How could she have been so stupid as to leave her child alone for even a second? She rushed back to the kitchen, still clutching the phone. She saw Lily standing in the center of the room beside the island, Eve’s giant boning knife in one hand, her other hand protectively shielding the little girl. Eve gazed up at the landing and saw the man she’d brought here last night. She’d completely forgotten about him. Eddie? Or maybe Ethan? She couldn’t remember. She stared at his fat gut sticking out, his eyes wide with surprise.

  Eve was disgusted with herself. He’d told her she was pretty, plied her with Chardonnay, and listened patiently when she’d told him about her two daughters. All Eve’s friends had grown tired of her sad tale. She had grown tired of it too. It was easier to go out, to find strangers who’d listen to her. She’d create elaborate stories about her twin girls and how picture perfect their lives were. In the end, all she really wanted was someone to hold her, to ease the empty ache inside her. Instead they’d had clumsy sex that she instantly regretted.

  “Who is that? Who is it?” Lily shouted.

  “Get out,” Eve yelled at the man. “Get the hell out!”

  He hesitated. Lily stepped forward, still clutching the knife. He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m going. I’m going. I just… I need my stuff.” He turned and disappeared up the stairs.

  “Ma’am, please, can you hear me? Is everything okay?” Eve remembered the operator was still on the phone.

  “Please just send officers as soon as you can. And tell Sheriff Rogers to come to the Riser house. Please.”

  “We’ve got units on the way. Stay on the line…”

  Eve ignored her and hung up the phone. She slowly moved toward Lily, stopping inches from the outstretched knife.

  “I know you’re scared, Lil. But the police are coming. You’re safe. We’ll keep you safe.”

  “You can’t promise that. You can’t.”

  Eve couldn’t argue with her daughter. She didn’t know where Lily had been or what she was running from. She didn’t know anything. Eve searched for the right thing to say to her delicate, wounded child. But words failed her.

  “Who is he? Who is that man?” Lily asked, still glancing up at the landing.

  “He’s no one. He’s nothing.”

  “Where is Dad? Did you two split up? Where is he, Mom? Where is my father?”

  Eve both hated Dave and ached for him.

  “I’ll tell you everything, but you have to put down the knife. Please, Lily, you’re scaring the baby. Give me the knife.”

  “Where’s Daddy?” Lily asked again, her voice raw with desperation.

  Eve wondered if words could actually pierce one’s heart. Abby was Mama’s girl, or at least she used to be. But from day one Lily was Daddy’s girl. Anytime Lily had a bad dream or a tummy ache, it was Dave to the rescue.

  “He’s gone. I’m so sorry, but Dad is gone.”

  “I don’t understand. Is he at the hospital? Call him. Tell him to come home. Tell him I’m here.”

  “He died, Lily. A few months after you left. He suffered a massive heart attack and died.”

  Lily reacted as if she’d been punched in the chest, doubling over, a sob exploding from her mouth. She dropped the knife, and it clattered to the floor. Lily leaned against the sofa. Her outburst horrified the child, who tugged desperately at her mother.

  “Mommy, don’t cry. Please. We’ll get in trouble. Please… stop it. Stop crying. Please!”

  Lily seemed to understand her daughter’s pleas. She stopped crying, almost instantly, sucking in large drafts of air. She slumped to the floor and pulled the child onto her lap. She began to rock her, swaying back and forth, her words indecipherable to Eve, almost gibberish. Eve grabbed the knife, setting it on one of the end tables, and then lowered herself next to Lily and Sky, the three of them huddled together on the cold kitchen tile.

  Eve needed to calm Lily, so she focused on the child.

  “Lily, is this your daughter?”

  Lily stared straight ahead, still trying to process the news about her father. She gave Eve a weak nod. “Yes. This is Sky. She’s six. Sky, this is my mother. She’s your grandmother.”

  Sky kept her face buried in Lily’s shoulder. Eve still couldn’t believe it. This was her granddaughter. She had a granddaughter.

  “She’s beautiful, Lil. Just like her mom.” Eve meant it too. They were both so lovely. Light was streaming through the kitchen window signaling that it was morning. An hour ago, Eve would never have noticed the sunrise. She hated mornings, the dawning of a new day without Lily. But today everything was bright and clear, as if she were waking from an eight-year slumber.

  “It’s your mom, Lilypad,” Eve said, her voice low and steady. “It’s your mom. I know your heart is broken over Daddy. Mine is too. It’s just… he loved you so much. I think he loved you too much. And I know you’re scared but I’m here, Lil. I’m right here.”

  Eve held Lily’s gaze, watching as Lily lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders in an outward show of courage. So brave, Eve thought. Her brave, brave girl. Lily took Eve’s hand and clutched it tightly, staring down at their intertwined fingers.

  Without warning, Lily wrapped her arms around Eve’s neck and hugged her again, her grip so tight she thought her ribs might break.

  So be it, she thought. Eve melted into Lily’s arms. All those moments she’d forced herself to forget: Lily, eight months old as she tentatively crawled across the living room carpet, keeping pace with Abby by her side. Lily as a teenager—no longer awkward and gangly but a gifted athlete. Lily and Abby, making a mess as they baked cookies, arguing over who got to eat the last of the batter. Eve remembered seeing Lily that last morning, her backpack slung over her shoulder, munching on a Pop-Tart. So tan and full of enthusiasm, she’d waved good-bye and disappeared out the front door. Disappeared from their lives. And now here they were, inches away from each other, as if no time had passed at all. Neither one of them moved, not even when they heard the front door open as the nameless man slipped out of Eve’s house.

  Eve waited, fighting the shame, and then she knew she needed to get moving. The police were coming and she still had Abby to think about. She hated to leave Lily again but she had no choice. She stood up.

  “I’ll be right back, Lil. Stay right here. I’ll be right back.”

  Eve grabbed the cordless phone and went into the dining room, still keeping an eye on Lily. She kept her voice low and nervously dialed, her fingers so clumsy she had to redial twice. Wes picked up his cell phone after two rings. Eve didn’t even wait for him to say hello.

  “Wes, it’s Eve. Lily came home. You have to go to Abby’s. The police are on their way to her, but you need to tell her that her sister is back. It has to be you.”

  “Eve, what are you talking about? What do you mean she’s home? She’s… I—”

  “I don’t have time for questions, Wes. Go get Abby!”

  Eve hung up the phone and hurried back into the living room, where she returned to her spot on the floor beside Lily and Sky. She wrapped her arms around her daughter, rocking her like she had when she was a baby.

  “Hold on, Lil. I’m here. Your mom has you and I’m never letting you go.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ABBY

  Abby fumbled in the dark for her phone. She never turned it off. Never let it out of her sight. She always believed that one day she’d get a call with news about her sister. It’s what kept her going. She frowned at the sight of Wes’s name on her caller ID. Abby quickly silenced the ringer.

  What the fuck was wrong with him? It was five o’clock in the morning. What did he not understand abou
t needing space? Abby swallowed hard, closing her eyes tightly as she pressed one thumb to one pinky and slowly counted to ten. One of her shrinks had suggested this stupid exercise. She’d never admit it to him, he was a smug asshole with a God complex, but the trick worked. When the panic overwhelmed her, it was a lifesaver. She ignored the voice mail icon when it appeared, and sat up in bed. If she were smart, she’d go back to sleep before her shift at the hospital started. But Abby was too annoyed. She’d never sleep now. It was pointless to even try.

  She wasn’t entirely comfortable living alone. She’d found the silence since Wes moved out more unsettling than she’d anticipated. But it was her choice. She’d wanted him to go. She’d demanded it. And for the most part, she was glad that she was by herself, that she didn’t have to try so hard. There was no pointless chatter about work or politics or any of the other mindless bullshit that fills the spaces when there’s nothing else to say. She didn’t have to make excuses about why she had two breakfasts, or why she stayed in bed until two o’clock on her day off. No, for her this was the only option. She was free to make her own choices, good or bad.

  Abby got out of bed and grabbed her gray terrycloth robe off the back of the door. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the full-length mirror and grimaced in disgust. Fat, round face, belly swollen to an unnatural size. One moment she’d been thin and sexy, the kind of girl that turned heads, and the next, she was this… this pig.

  Whoever said pregnancy was a gift was a goddamn liar. Abby’s body was being held hostage by this alien invader, and she despised each and every change. She kept imagining Mom’s horror, or Wes’s for that matter, if they knew her true feelings about this pregnancy.

  The worst part: The entire world wanted her to be over the moon about this new life she had created. No matter where she went—work, the grocery store, the dry cleaner’s—someone wanted to touch her belly and ooh and aah over each freaking burp, fart, and weight change. Abby didn’t get it. Almost anyone with a uterus could pop out a kid. Thirteen-year-olds in the Ozarks. Strung-out junkies. Prison inmates. She wanted to tell them all how stupid they were. Pregnancy wasn’t a blessing or a miracle. Getting knocked up was a result of reckless behavior and a major lapse in judgment. Even if you wanted a baby, bad things were bound to happen. Abby knew that firsthand.

  She made her way into the kitchen, flipping on the lights as she went. She stopped, gripped by the incredible urge to have a drink. Five months and twelve days since her last drink, and it still happened all the time. In the middle of washing dishes or taking a patient’s temperature, walking to her car… Some days she’d think about leaving work and hauling ass to the first liquor store she passed. Other times, she’d drive by Costco and pull into the parking lot, imagining herself walking in and loading her cart with enough booze to numb herself for days. But this town was so small someone would be on the phone to Wes or her mother before Abby ever cleared the checkout. So she shook off the feeling. If she couldn’t drink, she might as well eat.

  She opened the fridge and stared at the vast array of options. Mom insisted on doing her shopping now, as if Abby were some kind of invalid. It was like a goddamn Whole Foods exploded in her fridge. Baby carrots, hummus, cold cuts, fresh fruit. But she wasn’t in the mood for any of that. Instead she grabbed the chocolate crème pie she’d bought at the market after her shift the previous night. She’d promised herself she would take it to work and share with the girls, but Abby knew deep down that was never going to happen. This was the other reason she’d given Wes the boot. He’d find it unacceptable, eating chocolate pie first thing in the morning. She considered warming up a slice, topping it with ice cream, whipped cream, and fresh strawberries—see Wes, see Mom, I’m eating fruit—but she decided to hell with it and dug in, eating straight out of the plastic container.

  From the other room, she heard her cell phone ringing. Wes again. It had to be…

  No, this was why she’d ended things. The baby wasn’t even born, and Wes was suffocating her. A few weeks ago, things had come to a head.

  “You should let me do that.”

  She’d glanced down at the basket of laundry she was carrying.

  “What? You’re joking, right? It’s not heavy.”

  “Babe, I’m here. I don’t mind doing it.”

  “Well, I mind. And I have a name, Wes. It isn’t ‘babe.’”

  She’d seen that look, the petulant expression he got when he didn’t get his way. He’d kept on, spouting baby book statistics, talking about miscarriages and ruptures, none of which she cared about. She’d given in and handed over the laundry just to shut him up. Then she’d spent the rest of the day simmering. When he’d asked—for the hundredth time—if she was okay, Abby lost it.

  “I can’t do this. I can’t.”

  “Do what?” Wes asked.

  “I’m not a house cat.”

  “A house cat? Abby, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m fine. If I’m not, I’ll tell you. But you have to give it a rest.”

  Normally, when she tried to push his buttons, Wes fought back, calling her out. But that day, he’d shrugged.

  “Tell me what you really want, Abs, and I’ll give it to you.”

  “I want some goddamn space.”

  He’d packed his bags that night and left his house. The house he’d bought for them. He’d gone to stay with a friend, a frat buddy who still lived in town. But now here he was, calling her at the ass crack of dawn. Looking after her was his addiction.

  The phone finally stopped ringing, and she hoped he’d gotten the hint. Anxious and annoyed, she ate even faster. She’d made a mistake, moving in with him; she knew that.

  “I love you,” he’d said over and over again.

  But that was the problem. Abby didn’t want to be loved, and she wasn’t interested in loving him. Loving anyone, for that matter. Sex she could handle. They did that well. But a romance or—God forbid—a marriage wasn’t in the cards. Not now. Not ever.

  Breaking up with Wes the first time had nearly killed her. She’d struggled when he left for college. She’d lost all her friends in high school. She wasn’t the fun, happy-go-lucky teenage girl anymore. How could she be? Lily was gone, what did they expect? For her to carry on like everything was fine? She hadn’t cared. She had Wes. When he’d been accepted to Penn, he was the one who wanted to try long distance. Abby knew that would never work, not with his classes and a part-time job.

  “We need to be on our own,” she’d told him. It was the right thing to do; she knew that. He was never supposed to be hers. Once he was gone, she realized how much she relied on him to help her through the endless days and nights, to calm her when the bad thoughts wormed their way in. Alone and left to her own devices, Abby did whatever it took to numb herself. Booze, drugs, sex, anything to keep from thinking about Lily.

  Over the last few years, she’d gotten treatment and had even managed to earn her degree as an LVN. Thanks to her mother’s connections (God bless nepotism) Abby had landed a job at Lancaster General as an LVN in the pediatric department. As far as anyone could tell, she was a functional member of society. Abby hadn’t “moved on” or “gotten over the loss of Lily,” but her life was orderly and structured. And then Wes walked back into it, at the TGI Friday’s of all places. It was a busy Friday night, the after-work crowd and families all vying for a table. She’d been eating dinner with Mom when Wes showed up. Abby wanted to run away, to avoid him, but Mom had told her to stop being ridiculous, and when Wes approached, Mom had invited him to join them. Abby couldn’t believe that he was back in town. The last she’d heard through the gossip mill was that he’d accepted a real estate job in New York City. Abby wanted to know what he was doing here, and Wes explained that his father had gotten prostate cancer and he’d returned home to look after him.

  As much as Abby tried not to enjoy their dinner, she couldn’t help herself. He’d always made her laugh, and that night was no different. And he looked so good, tanned and muscular from a summer working construction. But it was the ease in which they interacted that she’d missed the most. With Wes there were no awkward questions or backstory to fill in. Lily lived on in their silences. They could talk about anything. Though to be honest, after that first night, there wasn’t a lot of talking. Abby loved those moments together, naked and weightless, his muscular arms wrapped around her, blotting out everything else.