Chapters (26)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Contents
- July First
- Chapter One
- Two Weeks Earlier
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Acknowledgments
- Special Excerpt
“This whole replacement-family thing. Well, I mean mostly it’s working out. Mom and Charlie are doing just great, performing up to task, all you could ask for. Most people would be happy with that, with two out of three, count themselves lucky. But you’re a perfectionist, aren’t you, Richard? Well, what can I tell you? We’re a package deal, take one, you’ve got to take us all. And as much as you’d like to bring me back to the store, demand a refund or a replacement daughter for your replacement daughter, you can’t.” Alice was still running on anger, but she knew that tears weren’t far behind, could feel them burning in her sinuses, at the back of her throat. In a rush to beat them, she talked faster: “So maybe it would be best for all concerned if you just gave up the idea that I’m going to measure up to Camilla in any way, shape, or form. It’s not going to happen. And I think the sooner you accept that, the happier we’ll all be. Just let me have my loser causes, the loser people I associate with. Just let me alone.”
A silence followed Alice’s speech, a silence so deep it filled her ears, took up all her hearing.
And then Richard broke it, saying, “I’m not letting you alone, Alice.”
His voice was rough, and at first she thought it was anger giving it that hoarse, gravely quality. Quickly, though, she realized it was tenderness. But it was already too late. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them: “God, no wonder Camilla killed herself. Anything to get away from you.”
Every face in the room, including that of Luz, who was standing in the doorway, a steaming platter of scrambled egg whites in her hand, was turned to her and openmouthed with shock. Alice, car keys thankfully already in hand, stood up from the table. She ran out of the room, then out of the house altogether, the tears she’d been in a race against bursting from her eyes as soon as she crossed the threshold. She jumped into the Mercedes SUV, jammed the key in the ignition. She didn’t think she breathed until she crossed Greeves Bridge and town was in sight.
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