Jay sighed. Pulling back, he ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, I can take a hint.”

She felt bad. He deserved better than this. He’d been so patient with her from the beginning.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “It’s getting late, and I just really have to go.”

He nodded. “I get it.”

“Thanks for being so understanding.” Reaching out, she put her hand over his. “And we’ll do this again soon...I promise.”

“Oh, I’ll hold you to that.” Leaning toward her, he gave her one last kiss.

10

SATURDAY, 3:30 P.M.
TWENTY-TWO AND A HALF
HOURS AFTER DROP-OFF

THERE IT WAS. The same bench.

Whitney held up her phone, picture displayed. “See, this is it. Right?”

“Looks the same,” Natalie agreed. She pointed to the ground. “Even has the plant next to it.”

Whitney glanced around at the grass surrounding them, a few picnic tables, barbecue pits and the pool a few feet away, enclosed in a fence. This complex was a good twenty minutes from where they lived. And Amelia had been here partying with people Whitney had never met. She swallowed hard. A warm breeze blew over them, leaves twitching on the branches of a nearby tree, a few falling to the ground.

“So, this is where Jay lives?” Natalie asked.

Whitney nodded. After she’d made the connection, she’d called him several times. He never answered. “Upstairs. But we’d passed this little picnic area on our way up. I remember commenting on how much cuter it was than our park area.”

Natalie’s shoulders bobbed up and down. “Could just be a coincidence.”

“Yeah,” Whitney agreed. “But I have to be sure.” She thought about the receipts from Sunrise Mall, which happened to be right around the corner from here. “Come on.” She walked forward, motioning for Natalie to follow.

They made their way up the stairs, passing a mom with her two young children in tow. Whitney’s gaze lingered on them a beat too long. She noted the way the woman’s hand rested on her daughter’s back, the way she easily touched the top of her son’s head. Neither child made any attempt to pull away. She longed for those days again.

When the mom caught Whitney staring, she averted her gaze and hurried up the remaining stairs.

The hallway was similar to Whitney’s. She remembered thinking that when Jay brought her here too. Concrete floors, windows and doors facing the apartment across the way, the occasional flowerpot or chair as decoration. There was nothing in front of Jay’s.

She knocked a few times and the door popped open. A woman who looked to be in her late twenties answered the door. Her hair was bleached a white blond, her roots dark, she had shimmery pink lipstick on her impossibly large lips and thick fake eyelashes that made it seem like it must be tough for her to keep her eyes open.