Her guard was too high, Tonya decided. She was reading too much into Imani’s forced politeness. The woman was simply trying to establish a rapport with the strange adult female in the house. “So, you saw patients this morning?”

Imani’s face relaxed. “Yes. A woman overwhelmed with homeschooling and having some issues with her husband because of it all. Not that unusual really…”

Suddenly, Imani’s full lips pressed together. She blinked up at the ceiling.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry.” Imani covered her mouth. “I’ve been emotional lately. My best friend was Melissa Walker. I’m sure you heard about what happened.”

Tonya tried to look saddened even though she didn’t actually feel much of anything—save for that awful twinge of relief that so frequently accompanied thoughts of Nate Walker’s absence from the earth. She mustered what she hoped resembled compassion. “It’s awful.”

Imani wiped a knuckle at the corner of each eye. “They were St. Catherine’s parents too. Did you ever meet them?”

For the millionth time, Tonya tried to deduce the reason behind Imani’s question. Were they still having a polite conversation? Was this a test? Had Imani heard anything?

Again, the woman’s expression revealed nothing except a forced earnestness. The quicker she could exit this conversation the better, Tonya decided. She might have been an actress, but faking sympathy for Nate Walker would be too difficult.

“Nope. I never met them.” Tonya covered her lie with the same pained expression painted on Imani’s face. “I do hope they find your friend.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

IMANI

Melissa would say she was crazy. As Imani passed through St. Catherine’s surprisingly quiet halls, she could almost hear her friend admonishing her for bringing that woman into her house. It was one thing for Philip to see flashes of Tonya at work, her slender body covered by a boxy button-down, work slacks, and an apron. It was quite another for him to stumble upon a beautiful young woman in his home, bra peeking from the wide neck of a thin T-shirt, casually doing his laundry. “She’s not paying rent?” Melissa would shout, incredulous. “You’ve taken on a sister-wife, and you’re not even Mormon.”

Imani chuckled at the thought and then hiccupped as she thought about Melissa’s secrets and her giggle threatened to morph into something else. Whatever Melissa had done, she’d been a real friend to her, Imani decided. Melissa had been her confidante, the person who would break from her busy day to grab a glass of wine and listen to Imani rant about her insecurities or frustrations with a challenging patient. With all the demands of the restaurant, Philip had never had the patience to hear her go on about her issues or feelings.