No one knew what to say. But I read them well, because I knew them well. Debra, an empathetic gloss on her eyes. Joe, a concerned dent between his brows. But the look Cody aimed at Oliver, a sharp glass-cutting stare, told me they knew something I didn’t. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one lying.

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Marin

A girl’s body was found yesterday. While the family comforted Felicity like an emotional wagon circle blocking out villainous theories of kidnapping or murder, all I could do was try to hide my guilt. Apparently my acting skills only went so far, because even after she got sloshed, Felicity saw right through my sympathy. And she made sure to voice it, too.

“I know you’re hiding something.” Drunk Felicity had pulled me aside, whispering these words in my ear last night. “And when I find out what it is, family or not, I will destroy you if you’re the reason my child is missing.”

In that moment I had wanted to reply that I knew about her secrets too, but her tightening grip on my arm silenced me. My flesh still wore the half-moon bruises her fingernails had inflicted on my skin.

Cody and I had returned home well after midnight, the open windows gawking, the front yard yawning sleepily. Trapped in a bedroom dripping with secrets, I shut my eyes to the shadows crawling up the walls. The waxing crescent moon was as bright as a spotlight, and I couldn’t sleep, not when Cody’s niece could be dead because of me. I flipped through a Rolodex of thoughts, anything to distract me. Lines from various beloved scripts. My boss’s ridiculous to-do list. The stack of overdue bills on the dining room table.

My thoughts were once mine. Now they belonged to Cody’s family.

A tornado of regret ripped through me. So many shouldn’t-haves I lost count. Only busy hands and a caffeinated brain could save me now. I got out of bed, the mattress squealing almost as loud as Cody’s snoring, and shuffled downstairs to the kitchen to brew coffee. When you’re plagued with OCD, the most relaxing thing in the world is dismantling your entire spare-bedroom-turned-storage-room, followed by putting it all back together in tidy color coordination. Thank you, The Home Edit, for the inspiration. Books in rainbow order—not genre, as Cody would have preferred—were neatly lined on the bookshelf against one wall. On the opposite wall I had installed gray wooden cubbies with cream linen baskets, where I borrowed Marie Kondo’s Tidy Up wisdom to fold and store clothes in colorized harmony. Cody had no dispute left in him about that.