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I gotta say, Sam, I thought you were smarter than this, leaving your wife and her little girl without even your German Shepherd to protect them. All these years, you’ve been so careful. Did you forget about me? Or did you think I’d forgotten about you?
Not a chance. If not for you, I’d be living my life, completely worry-free. In my line of work you always have to watch your back, but I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I’m not about to let that change just because of you.
The only reason you got away with it is because you surprised me when you showed up that night. You and the other kid—a friend maybe, I don’t know. I was bleeding out at that point so you’ll forgive me for not remembering much about him.
The point is: I didn’t expect you. Just like you aren’t expecting me now.
Your wife is putting the girl to bed now, rocking her to sleep. The window is shut but the curtains are sheer enough, the nightlight bright enough, that I can see everything. Your wife is singing, the girl’s eyes are drifting closed. Both of them unaware that I’m just a few feet away.
And that I broke the lock on that window a couple weeks ago.
fifty
You never know what kind of person you are until you’ve been tested.
@InvincibleMollySullivan
After Liv and Jeremiah left, Molly wanted to collapse, but she had to pull it together for Chloe. She’d done her best to smile through her tears as she tucked her daughter in, singing their special song about the bear that went over the mountain. Always another mountain.
Then she headed out into the backyard with a glass of wine. The long-awaited rainstorm was on its way, lightning flashing in the distance. She tried to breathe in the night air, cool for the first time in weeks, but her chest felt constricted. Even if Jeremiah and Liv convinced Scott to return, what would she do? Maybe he’d had a “good” reason to lie to her, but he’d still lied, every day since the day they’d met. Was that level of deception ever justified? It didn’t seem possible to continue loving a person after that.
No, that wasn’t true—it was possible to continue loving him. That’s why it hurt. But if she couldn’t trust him, that was deadlier than the loss of love.
Lightning cracked overhead, followed by a crash of thunder. She jumped, splashing wine onto her hand. As the sound faded, she listened for Chloe, hoping she hadn’t woken up. But she heard nothing but another rumble of thunder in the distance.
Molly sat outside, finishing her wine, until the rain started. Back in the kitchen, she deposited the glass in the sink before heading toward the bedroom. But as she walked past the living room, she heard the unmistakable sound of a man clearing his throat.
Her breath caught. Peering through the hazy darkness, she saw someone sitting in the armchair furthest from the front window.
A chill ran up her spine. It was a man, as tall as Scott but leaner, angular, his long legs crossed at the knee. His face was shadowed; she couldn’t make out his features. Bitsy, that stupid, silly dog, lay asleep at his feet. She lifted her head, saw Molly, and padded over next to her.
“Hello, Molly Sullivan,” the man said. His voice was pleasant, easy, like a neighbor stopping by for a chat.
Her knees trembled and nearly gave out. He held something on his lap, something small and fragile... Chloe, Molly realized with a rush of fear, her little blond head resting against his chest, her eyes closed. For a heart-stopping moment, Molly thought the worst, and she nearly collapsed from the horror of it. Then she saw Chloe’s lips move, her chest rise and fall.
Asleep. Her daughter was asleep in the arms of a stranger. While Molly had been outside in the backyard, this man had somehow gotten into her home, picking up her daughter. Touching her. A scream rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down.
The man stroked Chloe’s hair with one long-fingered hand.
“She’s a sound sleeper,” he said. “Didn’t mind at all when I picked her up out of bed. Let’s not wake her, shall we?”
fifty-one
No matter how you live, someone will disapprove.
Live YOUR truth.
Your own approval matters most of all.
@InvincibleMollySullivan
Liv and Jeremiah sat in two camp chairs opposite Scott. The rain had cleared, but the ground was still wet, the air humid and charged with electricity from the approaching storm. Scott’s massive German Shepherd perched next to him, ears pricked, eyes tracking between Liv and Jeremiah. It could have been any group of friends on a camping trip, sitting down for a chat—except for the gun in Scott’s hand.
“Why are you here?” Scott said.
“To get you to stop being a damn idiot,” Jeremiah said. “Go home to your wife and stepdaughter.”
Liv shot him a look. Pretty sure that was not going to work. “Scott,” she said, sitting on the edge of her seat. “I understand why you left.”
