Live to Tell (Live to Tell #1)(83)

“Okay. ’Night, Alyssa.”

Lauren hangs up, envying her sister a cozy evening at home with her husband. It’s been so long since she and Nick were that happy that she can’t even remember what it was like.

And I don’t want to. What’s the use now?

Picking up her magazine again, she turns a couple of pages, still unable to focus. This time, it’s not because she’s daydreaming about Sam.

Nick probably wants to tell her that he’s marrying Beth.

But if not…

After all he’s put us through—the kids and me—he’s out of his mind if he thinks he’s going to walk back in here and pick up where we left off.

If that’s what he wants, she’ll say no. She’s ready to move on. He should know that. She should tell him. In person.

She snatches up the phone and thumb-types a return message.



I’ll be there.



She hesitates, looking at it. What if she’s not strong enough to tell him he can’t come home? What if she says yes when she means no?

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But she’s different now. Stronger.

Why? Because some good-looking guy paid attention to you?

Sam did ask for her phone number.

Yeah—so what? He’s a flirt. You don’t know anything about him. You don’t know if you’re ready to go out on a date. You don’t know if he’ll actually even call. Look at the way you got your hopes up just now, thinking it was him.

This is crazy.

Lauren might not know what she wants, exactly, but she knows what she doesn’t want. A cheating ex-husband tops the list.

If Nick tells me he wants to come home, I’ll say no. Gladly.

Jaw set, she hits send.



Lying wide-awake in her bed, listening to thunder, Sadie thinks back over the day. Mostly, she thinks about one thing that happened. It’s been bothering her, and she’s not sure why.

Well, maybe she is.

Mommy has always told her not to talk to strangers. Once, she even read Sadie a library book about that very thing. About how strangers don’t always look like bad guys—they could be disguised as nice guys, or even nice women. Sometimes, they try to make friends with children by giving them candy or asking for directions or saying that Mommy said to get a ride home with them.

But what if the person doesn’t do any of those things?

What if the person is someone Mommy herself has talked to?

What if the person even knows Sadie’s name?

Does the person still count as a stranger then?

Sadie didn’t think so at the time.

It was broad daylight, and her mother was nearby, so there was no need to worry.

So when asked, “It’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it?” Sadie agreed that it was. Like Mommy said, it was rude to ignore someone’s question.

“What’s your favorite thing to do on a beautiful day, Sadie?”

“Swim in the pool,” she answered, “or swing on the swings.”

“How about on a rainy day?”

She shrugged.

“I like to read books on rainy days. How about you, Sadie?”

“I can’t really read yet.”

“Well, I bet you like to color in your coloring books, right?”

“Yes.”

“And play with your toys? What toys do you like to play with?”

“My Little Pony. And puzzles. And…lots of stuff.”

“Stuffed animals?”

“No, I said lots of stuff,” Sadie repeated.

“Stuff like stuffed animals?”

Sadie couldn’t help but grin. “Sometimes.”

She was enjoying the conversation.

Adults usually don’t really bother to talk to kids, and when they do, they seem like they’re only pretending to be interested.

This was different.

For a change, someone was interested.

She talked about her favorite stuffed animals. She talked about Fred. She told how Daddy promised to get him back from the lost and found, but didn’t. She even mentioned the stupid pink dog.

“And where is the pink dog now?”

For the first time since the conversation started, Sadie hesitated. Should she tell? Even Mommy doesn’t know the truth.

If she didn’t tell Mommy, she probably shouldn’t tell someone else, she decided.

No matter how nice the person is.

“Sadie? Where’s the pink dog?”

“I don’t know,” Sadie lied.

That’s something she hardly ever does. Whenever she lies to Mommy, Mommy seems to know.

Mommy isn’t the only one.

She could tell the stranger—and it really was a stranger, she decides now, no matter what she thought at first—didn’t believe her about the dog.

“Sure you do, Sadie. You know. Come on. Think about it. You’ll remember.”

“I didn’t forget. I just don’t know.”

“I’ll bet you do.” There wasn’t any anger, or anything like that.

Yet now, thinking back on the conversation, Sadie feels scared. She doesn’t know why.

Maybe she should tell Mommy about it.

But then she might get into trouble.

I won’t tell, Sadie decides. I’ll just make sure I never, ever, ever talk to strangers again.