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Back One White Lie Save as PDF
Chapters (59)
  1. COVER
  2. About the Author
  3. DEDICATION
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I get it. But you asked why they never came – John and Vera – you asked me, even though you knew.’

She shrugged. ‘I wanted to see if you knew.’

‘You could have asked me outright. I would have been honest.’

She took a deep breath. ‘I’m tired of all the gossip, okay? So when I have a chance to get away from it, I do. It doesn’t matter if you knew John or if he was your friend or whatever. Everything that happened was none of your business,’ she said. She glanced at the funeral parlor, where more people were filing out. ‘And it wasn’t my dad’s business, either. Or my mom’s. Or Vera’s. Or anyone in this town’s, okay?’

‘I know, it’s just –’

She began to back away.

‘Wait,’ I said.

Claire crossed her arms and sighed, as if all this had exhausted her. Her eyes caught mine, imploring me to understand. ‘It’s just like your business, with your friend coming into the restaurant – what she said and what you told her, that isn’t anyone’s business but yours.’

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TWENTY-SIX

Back in my cottage, door locked tight behind me, I headed immediately to my bedroom and squirmed out of my dress and tights.

I still couldn’t believe that Al was Claire.

She had seemed so guileless, but I shouldn’t have been so surprised. When it came right down to it, we were all full of lies, every single one of us. The truth lay somewhere deep down in our hearts. But with each passing year, we added another layer of protection, like an onion growing. To get to the truth, you could peel back each layer, one by one. Or you could grab a knife and slice, crying as the chemicals hit your eyes. Claire was young and naive – she had fewer layers than I did – but that didn’t mean she hadn’t already begun to build them, hadn’t learned that grand lesson of adulthood: that no one would protect you but yourself.

I tossed the dress onto my bed, pushing Claire – Al – out of my mind.

Time to pack. Time to get the hell out of here.

It was only as I pulled a sweater over my head that I realized – there had been no pitter-patter, no panting run. No Dusty.

Trying to stay calm, I slid into jeans and walked through the kitchen, calling his name. He’d probably only gone out back to pee. I twisted the doorknob, and a rush of cold burst in as I stepped onto the back patio, the stone chilling my bare feet. He wasn’t in the yard.

‘Dusty,’ I called louder, heartbeat quickening as I returned to the bedroom, dropping to my knees, looking under the bed. Nothing.

‘Dusty,’ I called again. In the living room, I searched beneath the sofas, under blankets.