She saw a black SUV rolling down Pleasant Street. The car stopped. Her breath caught. She looked more closely and recognized the blond head of Esther, Mom Squad member and mother of Morgan’s friend Audrey. Alexa needed to relax. Everybody drives a black SUV, she told herself. Everybody. The SUV started moving again—now she could see that it had been letting the car in front of it pull into a parallel parking space. Merrily, the traffic rolled along, and Alexa felt her pulse quiet.

Once she had her crepe Alexa settled onto one of the couches and read her texts. The first was Cam, wondering if she wanted to hang out later. The second was Sherri, asking if Alexa could stay for a while that night with Katie while Sherri stopped by Brooke’s party. That’s right, tonight was Brooke’s end-of-summer party, at her over-the-top house on the river. Brooke’s party was legendary. Brooke’s party meant a lot of drunk grown-ups dressed up and posting inappropriate and embarrassing photos on social media. And of course somebody would jump into the pool. Inwardly, in advance, Alexa rolled her eyes. Was there anything more depressing than middle-aged drunk people?

There was, in fact. Yes. Middle-aged drunk people who danced.

Alexa was surprised that Sherri Griffin was even going to that party. She probably had no idea what she was getting herself into. (What would she wear?)

She sent two texts back.

To Sherri: Sure. What time? She needed to keep Katie with her, to keep her safe. Katie couldn’t stay alone during the party. What if the bad men were coming for them both? If they were, it was all Alexa’s fault.

To Cam: Sry, babysitting. Talk to you after?

67.

Rebecca

Rebecca picked the girls up after their sleepover in Maudslay and dropped Katie at her house. She still didn’t have anything to wear to the party. “Hey, Morgs, want me to leave you at home, or do you want to come to Marshalls with me?”

“Who’s at home?”

“Just Bernice, I think.” She checked her phone to see where Alexa was but her location wasn’t visible. That app never worked.

“I’ll go with you.”

“You sure you don’t want to shower?” Morgan smelled a little ripe.

“I’m sure. Can I get some of those sour gummy worms in the checkout line?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

“No. The sugar epidemic is this country is for real, and I’m not going to contribute to it.”

Morgan shrugged. “I’ll come anyway.”

Fine, okay. Maybe better if Morgan did come along. Rebecca had been putting something off and she knew it was time to face it head-on, before the party.