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My eyes take a second to focus and I realize Saxon is at the edge of the bed, sleepy, shaking me.
“Hey, buddy,” I say. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”
“Maryanne is at the door,” he says. “She keeps knocking and yelling for you and apologizing to me. I’m tired, Mom.”
“Oh, okay. I was sleeping really hard I guess. Go back to bed, Saxon.”
My son shuffles away.
I have to remain under the covers, hidden, because I’m not so sure I want him to see me wearing nothing but Cutter’s t-shirt.
I reach for my phone and there’s a barrage of text messages. Phone calls. Voicemails too.
What in the world is going on here?
The texts are from Maryanne. From Dorothy at work.
A text from Katie…? Work Katie? Really?
Then there are random numbers. Actual phone numbers.
Are you available for comment?
Is this the real Piper Maple?
Miss Maple I’ll get right to the point - how long has this been going on?
That text makes me a little nervous.
I scramble out of bed and track down some actual clothing.
A black sports bra. Purple panties. Comfy jeans. A random t-shirt.
I race out of my bedroom and down the stairs.
“Piper, I’m so sorry to do this,” Maryanne is yelling as she keeps knocking.
“I’m right here!” I yell back.
I open the door and Maryanne stands there, looking surprised and scared, binoculars around her neck.
“I knew something was happening,” Maryanne says. She touches her binoculars. “I knew it all along!”
“What is…”
My phone vibrates again.
It’s another text message from a random number asking me about an interview.
I’m normally up bright and early and functioning. This isn’t like me. I’m in a daze. A post-sex haze from last night.
“Piper,” Maryanne says. “You’re all over social media right now! Someone was following you. Following you and Cutter! I knew I saw something…”
My jaw drops and look down to my phone. My eyes settle on a text from Dorothy.
This you? DAMN GIRL. Lucky!
Included in the text is a picture…
