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Chapters (47)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraphs
  5. Prologue
  6. Part One
  7. ONE
  8. TWO
  9. THREE
  10. FOUR
  11. FIVE
  12. SIX
  13. SEVEN
  14. EIGHT
  15. NINE
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. Part Two
  25. EIGHTEEN
  26. NINETEEN
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. TWENTY-NINE
  37. THIRTY
  38. THIRTY-ONE
  39. THIRTY-TWO
  40. THIRTY-THREE
  41. THIRTY-FOUR
  42. THIRTY-FIVE
  43. THIRTY-SIX
  44. THIRTY-SEVEN
  45. Acknowledgments
  46. About the Author
  47. Newsletter Sign-up

“How would Michael even know I’m pregnant?” Ann asked Anthony. “And how would he know it was you? I never told him anything.”

“You didn’t have to. He said he overheard you when you called me. You should have been more discreet, Ann.”

“No.” Ann couldn’t think straight anymore. Nobody had been home when she’d spoken to Anthony, right? That was just a few days ago, and she could hardly remember it, couldn’t remember what she’d eaten for breakfast that very morning, what homework she’d turned in and what was late, what her own name was. Her brain was too busy trying to make sense of the messiness of her life. She remembered yelling at Michael and feeling bad about it. She’d been anxious for him to come home after school so she could apologize, tell him she didn’t mean what she’d said, she’d just been so alone, so confused, that she needed to lash out. She was building up the resolve to tell everyone, her parents, Michael, Poppy. Once Michael knew this secret she’d been keeping, he’d understand, right?

“He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t blackmail you. Not Michael.”

“Especially Michael,” Anthony said. His voice was so authoritative she felt as if he were in the same room with her. “What do you know about his life before you met him? He was a street kid, Ann. He learned to get what he wanted. Think about it. He lived with your family for what, not even two years? He just turned eighteen, doesn’t want to go to college. He could work at a McDonald’s the rest of his life or he could hit me up for a load of cash, which is just what he did. He called me at work. Last person in the world I expected to hear from at nine o’clock in the morning. I almost spit out my coffee.”

“He called you? How did he have your number at work?”

“I gave him my card when he worked for me last summer. Told him to stay in touch if he wanted me to write a letter of recommendation. Thought I was doing the kid a favor and look how he repaid me. He had the whole plan figured out. He said he’d say he’s the father and skip town if I’d give him money.”

“No.”