Page 12 of The House on Forgotten Hill

With some reluctance, I slipped my hand into his. Instead of shaking it, he gave the slightest tug. Not enough to pull me off balance. Just enough to bring me half a step closer. He leaned in, his voice almost a whisper. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

He released my hand, offering me a wave as he walked back to his house, and I stood in the doorway until he disappeared inside.

It was only after the front door closed behind him that a thought occurred to me. Somehow, the man I’d spent two weeks spying on had managed to leave me feeling as though I’d been the one under observation all along.

7

I woke Friday morning to bright light beaming through my bedroom window. Looking outside, I saw it was going to be another clear day. As I walked to the kitchen to brew some coffee, my doorbell rang.

I peered out the window and saw Estelle at the door with a loaf of bread in hand.

When I opened the front door, she said, “I hope you like sourdough.”

“I love it.”

“I made two loaves this morning, and I thought I’d bring one to you.”

I stepped aside. “Come in.”

The smell of warm bread filled the kitchen as she set it on the counter.

“I swear,” I said, “if you keep bringing me baked goods, I’m going to have to start buying larger clothes.”

“Nonsense,” she said, looking me over. “You’re gorgeous. You couldn’t gain enough weight to make a bit of difference.”

I poured us each a cup of coffee, and we settled in at the dining room table.

For a while we talked about nothing in particular.

The weather.

A new restaurant opening downtown.

The flowers beginning to bloom along the hill.

The conversation had settled into an easy familiarity, and with every passing minute, the guilt of keeping my identity from her weighed more on me.

“Estelle, there’s something I should have told you the day we met,” I said.

She looked up from her coffee, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “I wondered how long it would take. When I knew you, you were Olivia Caraway.”

“You knew, and you didn’t say anything?”

She nodded. “The moment I first saw you.”

I stared at her. “How?”

“You look so much like your father.”

Her answer surprised me. “I always thought I looked more like my mother.”

“You have Naomi’s smile. But your eyes … those are Julian’s.”

I looked down at my coffee. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you from the start.”

“It’s fine, dear. You don’t owe me an apology.”

“I felt strange bringing it up. I wasn’t trying to deceive you.”