We’d reached the block of mailboxes again, and I slowed down, suddenly a little shy. “I’d like that. Can we exchange numbers?”

After the awkwardness of entering her number into my phone and sending a text to give her mine, I said, “Thanks. I mean, I really needed—”

“Hey.” She held up her hands as if to ward me off, but with a grin. “That’s what friends are for. And you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me.”

I nodded and held my phone up as if proving that I’d be in touch. Then I turned, but I’d gone only a few steps when I realized Lena was following me.

Stepping to one side, I slowed down so she could catch up and glanced at her questioningly.

She laughed, that deep, rolling laugh. “I forgot to ask where you live. I’m the second from the corner.”

I knew in my head we were just in the honeymoon stage of friendship, too early to really know anything about each other, but I couldn’t stop the feeling of joy that rolled over me. There would be so many coincidences that made us seem fated to be friends. And this was the first.

We were next-door neighbors.

CHAPTER

6

AFTER I WAVED good-bye to Lena, I unloaded the curtains and towels from the car and carried them up to the front door. Beside it was a package that hadn’t been there when I’d parked an hour ago.

I set down the bags, unlocked the door, and picked up the package. It was a shoe box not wrapped in tape or sent through the mail. My name was written on the top in black permanent marker, and my heart started to beat a warning.

Aimee wasn’t here, she couldn’t be, but I glanced up and down the street. Whoever had left the box had come and gone while Lena and I were walking. No one appeared to be watching, but the malicious postcard was still on my mind.

I removed the lid and found a note, written in a precise, dark script:

Kacy,

I’m sorry I missed you. I thought you might enjoy making more origami stars. We’re collecting them through the end of the month. Please call me if you’d like to work on them together.

Best, Elizabeth

She’d included her phone number at the bottom of the page, and underneath the note were two neat stacks of origami paper.

I could imagine Elizabeth choosing each word carefully, hesitating as she decided what to say. Her note was as sleek and controlled as her blond ponytail, and I didn’t know what to make of it.

Was this a thoughtful gesture because she’d noticed I enjoyed the origami, at least until Sandy ruined everything? Or was she implying that I should have done more work before swearing and storming off?