Just get through this goddamn holiday. Then you can work it all out.

One more day. That’s all I needed. After the party and Halloween, I’d come clean to Lily and Adam.

And hope that they still loved me.

I grabbed my coat and went back into the living room to say goodbye to Adam. He’d shut the television off and was staring into space, his jaw set hard.

“You look like you saw a ghost,” I joked.

He didn’t laugh.

He held out my phone. “You got a message.”

I took it and saw the notification that had popped up. A text from Greg.

Just checking in since you seemed so upset the other day. Let me know how you are. XO

“Where did you say you were going? To Kendra’s house?” Adam’s voice was low. Even.

“Adam, this isn’t—I don’t—”

“Save it, Theresa.” He sighed, drew his fist to his forehead. “I should’ve known.”

“Known what?” I asked.

“You and...him. I saw how he looked at you at the football game.”

“Adam! Are you kidding me? He was my teacher. That’s all.”

Liar. Cheater.

His face was unreadable. Stone. “Then why lie?”

“Lie? About what? Kendra just texted me. I will show you.” I pulled it up. “Right here.”

“Not about that.” He shook his head. “The library. You weren’t at the library the other day when I called you. It was 10 a.m. The library doesn’t open until noon on Thursdays.”

I felt the trap door open.

“Adam, it’s not what it seems. I swear.”

“I said save it. I don’t want to talk to you right now.” He got up, left me alone.

The perfect house on the hill that I’d needed. The perfect house in the perfect neighborhood. I’d built a castle on top of a snake’s nest.

Perfect, perfect, perfect. It’s all I’d ever wanted. No—it was all my mother ever wanted for me. Pushing me to look my best, act my best, never make mistakes. All that pressure—it caused you to do things you wouldn’t ordinarily do. To lie. To cover up flaws. To pretend to be someone you weren’t, just to fit in. It caused you to change, until you weren’t even sure who you really were anymore.

It was a windy night, the gusts howling between our house and Mrs. Tressle’s. The dead brown leaves skittered around and around the cul-de-sac like noisy insects. As I shut the door behind me, something moved fast across the lawn. A dog, I thought at first, but a motion sensor kicked on, and its green eyes glittered. The fox. It stopped, staring at me. Sizing me up. A dead squirrel hung limp in its jaws.

It turned and disappeared along the side of the house, into the shadows.

Potential predators were everywhere.