Helen: My guess is yes to all three. Secondly, Lena has been monitoring Kacy’s phone. She knows where this “safe house” is, she knows Kacy’s been to the museum once already, and when everything’s just the way Lena wants it, she knows Kacy’s taken the bait.

Julia: Because there’s no point in preparing a surprise party if the guest of honor doesn’t show up.

Helen: Happy birthday, baby.

CHAPTER

27

I CAME TO ON the ground in the shadow of something large, my cheek pressed into the rough asphalt, the stench of oil and trash in my nostrils. I sat up, my head swimming, trying to make sense of what I saw. A wooden fence, a dark alley, a bit of the parking lot, and a dumpster. I’d been lying almost underneath it.

“Help!” My voice cracked. I staggered to my feet, my hand on the filthy metal for support, my stomach queasy. I crept around the dumpster and scanned the parking lot. Despite the nearly subaudible hum of the surrounding city, everything was quiet. I didn’t see Lena anywhere.

The catering vans were gone, the museum dark. The gala must be over. I raised a hand to my aching head. I had to call the police. I reached in my pocket. Empty. No car keys. No scissors. No phone.

I scanned the asphalt. Nothing. Lena must have taken everything.

A car was approaching on the main street, and I ran toward it, waving my hands. I could have sworn it sped up. The darkness thickened around me. Lena could be anywhere, in any doorway, watching me. But she wouldn’t watch for long. That wasn’t her style. Maybe she pictured me as a wounded animal she needed to stalk.

But that wasn’t what she’d said. Lena had threatened Aimee, but she’d talked to me like we were friends.

I looked over my shoulder at the front entrance to the museum. Of course. The security guard. He’d have a walkie-talkie and a phone. He’d call the police. My next breath drew bile into my throat.

Lena knew I was here, and she could figure out where my family was. My parents. Grace. They were at the police station now, but they couldn’t live there forever. When they left, Lena would hunt them down.

Although she hadn’t hurt me yet, every little remark she’d made about babies and Stepford wives ignited a panic that burned through the foggy pain in my head.

I sprinted across the parking lot, along the side of the museum, and up the concrete steps of the entrance. The main glass doors were locked, as I knew they would be, and no one was visible. I banged on the doors with my open palms, shouting, shrieking. When I heard a car behind me, I turned and screamed at it too, waving my arms frantically.

Why didn’t pay phones exist anymore?