I’m at a charity luncheon when I see Victoria Sinclair walking toward me.
She’s wearing a designer dress and a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Sarah,” she says, air-kissing my cheek.
“How lovely to see you.”
“Victoria.”
She studies me.
“You look tired.”
“I’m fine.”
“Of course.” She pauses.
“I heard the most interesting rumor.
About Alexander.
About a woman in Willow Creek.”
My heart stops.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do.” She leans in closer.
“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.
A woman named Lily Anderson.
A child.” This story is hosted at novelping.com.
I don’t respond.
I can’t.
My mind is racing, my heart is pounding.
“I just thought you should know,” Victoria says, “that I’m going to find out the truth.
And when I do…
well.
Let’s just say Alexander won’t have a choice.”
She walks away, leaving me standing there, frozen.
I don’t know how long I stand there.
Minutes, maybe hours.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
All I can do is remember.
I remember Lily.
I remember the way she looked at him, like he was her whole world.
I remember the day she left.
The day she packed her suitcase and walked out the door.
I remember the way she looked at me like I’d betrayed her.
I didn’t do anything.
I didn’t stop her.
I didn’t fight for her.
I was too afraid, too weak, too comfortable.
And now she’s gone.
And I might have a granddaughter I’ve never met.
I pull out my phone.
I dial a number I haven’t called in years.
“Alexander.
I need to tell you something.”
“It’s about Lily.”