BooksBarbecue
Back Where I Left Her Save as PDF
Chapters (47)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  47. Booklist

Whitney shook her head. And that’s when she noticed the bare spot on Amelia’s desk. Her laptop was gone. Sinking down to the ground, she rifled through the pile of clothes. Not there either.

“Her laptop is gone too.”

Bringing her hand up, her fingers caught on a lacy hot-pink push-up bra. One she never remembered buying Amelia. She drew her hand back like it was on fire and stared down at it. Her mind reeled with all the things she’d learned so far today.

The receipt.

The missing money.

The picture.

The older man.

She knew Amelia had been pulling away, asserting her independence, even lying occasionally. But she’d never expected all of this. Blowing out a breath, she dropped her neck back, her gaze skating up the wall, stopping at the poster of Ariana Grande she’d bought Amelia a few years ago at the concert. That was such a fun night. They’d both temporarily dyed their hair pink. At the concert, they danced and sang at the top of their lungs. And afterward, they went to In-N-Out to grab midnight burgers.

Whitney recalled Amelia saying how she was the “funnest” mom ever.

If only she felt that way now. Next to Ariana Grande, her gaze slid to the left, landing on a Twilight poster. Amelia had been obsessed with the series since she was in middle school. She’d seen the movies more times than Whitney could count. There were other movie posters too—Amelia loved movies. One time she even went to—

Oh, God.

“Can I see that picture again? The one of Amelia and that boy?”

Nodding, Natalie pulled it up and handed the phone to Whitney.

Her mouth dried out. “I know where they’re sitting. I’ve been there before.”

9

FOUR WEEKS
BEFORE DROP-OFF

“WHITE OR RED?” Jay asked from the kitchen.

“Red is fine.” A window near Whitney was open, and cool air whisked over her skin. She shivered. Voices floated in from outside. Heated. A couple in a fight.

Whitney wasn’t a snob, by any means. She’d lived in apartments much of her adult life. But even she had hesitated a moment when she’d first pulled into the parking lot of this one.

“Well, that’s good because I think I’m out of white anyway,” he called with a light laugh.