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Chapters (82)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY JAMIE BRENNER
  3. PART ONE
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. PART TWO
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. PART THREE
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. Acknowledgments
  81. About the Author
  82. What’s next onyour reading list?

The front door swung open, and someone walked out of the house. The woman gave a quick glance at their group. Then she stopped moving, turning around slowly.

Celeste jumped up from her seat, nearly knocking over her glass of wine.

“Elodie?” she said. “What are you doing here?”

How could this be?

Lidia put down the plates she’d been gathering. “You two know each other?”

“How do you two know each other?” Celeste said, sounding angrier than she intended.

“She’s our tenant,” Lidia said, clearly understanding something was very wrong but unable to imagine what it could possibly be.

Celeste walked over to face her sister.

“Are you stalking me? Trying to pressure me to sign those papers by moving in with Jack’s family? This is so typical of you . . .”

Jack got up and walked over. “Ladies, come to the table.”

“This is as much a surprise to me as it is to you,” Elodie said, looking indignant. Her small dog strained on her leash. “I told you I didn’t have a place to stay and you just left me standing on the dock—”

“What is going on here?” Manny said.

“What’s going on here,” Celeste said, “is that your new tenant is my sister.”

21

The ceiling slanted so low that Gemma almost banged her head when she woke up. The room had a small nightstand with a tiny lamp, and across from the bed was a fan plugged into the floor. The walls were clapboard wood, with lots of knots and marks in the boards, and the skylight let her stare up at the stars, which she had plenty of time to do last night since she had a hard time falling asleep.

Why had Elodie manipulated her? Wasted her time? She would text her. No, she’d call her. But first: coffee.

Gemma pulled on a pair of denim shorts and a black tank and pulled a comb through her long hair. She peeked into her suitcase, comforted by the sight of her charm necklaces. She fastened one around her neck, then covered her sleep-puffy eyes with her sunglasses and made her way down the narrow staircase to the first-floor kitchen. The shop was dark and quiet.

Yesterday, after Gemma had tentatively accepted her offer of hospitality, Celeste gave her a quick tour of the house. Aside from the shop on the ground floor, there was a kitchen in the back and a screened-in porch overlooking a small yard. A narrow staircase led to the second floor, and then there was the third floor, where she had her room.

“Who are you?” a voice said from out of nowhere. Gemma shrieked, then the voice shrieked.

A tall and striking young woman appeared from behind a hanging tapestry. She was dressed in an orange halter top, orange and white striped cinch-waist pants, and had oversized gold hoops in her ears. Her dark skin was accentuated by the platinum blond tips of her pigtails.