Even amid crisis Debra looked put together. Hair coiffed to perfection. Crispy ironed pantsuit matching the rosy shade she wore on her cheeks. She was one of the classiest women I’d ever met, though I’d been told she didn’t come from money. She only looked it. I didn’t know much about my in-laws’ past, only that Debra worked for every penny she had. Her work ethic was what Joe first noticed about her…and the reason he fell so hard for her. He knew with Debra at his side, they could accomplish anything together.

“How’s Felicity hanging in there?” I asked, afraid to ask Felicity myself. There was something terrifying about approaching a mother consumed by anticipatory grief.

Debra shook her head sadly. “She’s going through a difficult time.” There was that phrase again. I loved Debra, but sometimes she resorted to useless clichés. She rested her hand on my arm, adding, “Go talk to her—sister to sister. She needs support right now.”

If only Felicity viewed me as a sister and not the villain. Suspicion darkened her blue eyes as I inched my way over to her and silently hugged her. An embrace of solidarity. And a total sham. Glancing away, I felt like my lies flashed across my forehead in neon:

Liar! Traitor! Killer!

“It’s going to be okay.” My words were empty and I knew it. “Vera will come home. I just know it.” But I knew nothing, really, other than I was the reason she disappeared.

“That’s what the police tell me, that it’s common for teens to run away. And most return home…” Felicity’s voice trailed off hopelessly.

“It’s true,” Oliver added matter-of-factly. “We have to trust the statistics.”

“Trust the statistics? Our daughter is not a number, Oliver.”

“I’m not saying she is, but in today’s day and age, kids run off all the time. She could be holing up at a friend’s house for all we know.”

“What friend? We’ve spoken to all her friends. The police have too. I can’t imagine that she had friends we didn’t know about.”

“It’s possible. Teens keep all kinds of stuff a secret.” All eyes pivoted to me. I should have kept my mouth shut.

“Then tell me, what was Vera running from?” Felicity’s sharp glare cut into me, and suddenly I wondered if she knew what I had done. Sweat trickled down my armpit, soaking into the fabric of my sweater.

“How about a nice, calming glass of wine?” Debra offered, placing one in Felicity’s hand for her, nudging her to sip.

A gulp later, Felicity resumed. “Answer me, Marin. What was so awful that Vera was running from?”

“Maybe it’s not what she was running from but what she was running to,” Debra suggested. “Maybe a boy?”