After working in the garage for a while I wondered if Ash might be asleep on the sofa following today’s events, but when I peered through the kitchen window, I saw he was still wide awake. Frowning, I walked to the front door, not daring to open it until my pulse settled. I’d forced myself to the garage earlier, feared if I didn’t, I’d give in to my frustrations, shout at Ash, demanding to know all about Lily. Who she was, how they’d met, if she’d been the real reason he hadn’t come home. I knew he wouldn’t have been able to answer, and so I’d retreated, left him alone with my laptop, his brow furrowed, fingers darting over the keys as he tried to uncover the last two years of his history.

Now, balling my fists by my sides, I forced my nails deeper into my palms. Lily arriving in town was unexpected. I thought I’d thrown her with my cover story, most definitely hadn’t expected her to show up in Newdale. Her arrival was something I’d have to handle swiftly, before she wheedled her way back into Ash’s life. Before he remembered her or she could contradict any of the fibs I’d told him already.

I’d overheard Ash’s conversation with Dr. Adler about Lily. Maybe “deliberately eavesdropped” was a more accurate description. Finding out what Ash really thought about his supposed girlfriend being here had been my entire reason for pretending to go to the bathroom, but Dr. Adler suggesting Ash spend time with her hadn’t been something I’d bargained on. Ash was conflicted, yes, and by the sound of it considering my feelings, but I had to make sure it stayed that way. I didn’t have much time. In a little over two hours Lily would show up here, at the house, and I hadn’t yet come up with a proper plan of how to get rid of her. I pushed the front door open, let an innocent look settle over my face and headed to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Ash said, as soon as I walked in.

I gestured to the pages of scrunched-up paper strewn across the table, the laptop he’d pushed to one side and the empty soda bottle. “Did you find anything?”

“Jack Smith from Brookmount, Maryland,” he said, almost in a daze, his left leg bouncing up and down, fingers drumming the table. I tried not to blanch as I wondered if his nerves weren’t because of what he’d found, but because I hadn’t performed a good enough purge of my search history and he’d realized he was telling me something I’d known for days.

“Come and read this,” he said, waving me over, and when I looked at the screen, saw the same article I’d found on OceanCityToday over a week before.