Live to Tell (Live to Tell #1)(87)

She knew as soon as she put him into the tag sale box that it would be wrong to give him away, but—

Uh-oh.

Belatedly, Sadie remembers the fishing line. She’d forgotten all about it when she crossed the threshold just now. Sure enough, one end has become unfastened from the doorframe.

She tries to put it up again, but the tape isn’t sticky enough. Maybe she can just take it down now that she has the signs.

But the signs probably aren’t going to stop anyone. Even Sadie knows that. No matter what Mommy and Dr. Prentiss said.

The fishing wire trap won’t stop anyone, either, but at least she’ll know if someone has been in her room.

Opening her desk drawer, she looks for the roll of tape she keeps with her art supplies. It’s gone.

She’s positive she didn’t hide it. There wasn’t enough room for everything.

Did someone steal it? Was someone else in here? Was the fishing line already down before she herself crossed the threshold just now?

Sadie nervously rummages through the drawer. No tape. Someone must have—

Suddenly, she remembers that she and Mommy used up almost the whole roll last night when they hung the signs. Thank goodness. Thank goodness no one stole it.

Heading downstairs to borrow some tape from the kitchen drawer, she sees Chauncey at the foot of the steps, facing the front door. His tail is sticking straight up, and his ears are perked like he’s listening for something.

“What are you doing, boy?” Sadie opens the doggy gate and goes over to him.

Poised, silent, Chauncey seems to be on high alert.

Sadie looks toward the door just as the bell rings.

She can see someone standing on the other side of the frosted glass.



The security guard in the lobby of Nick’s building barely glances up from his newspaper as Lauren walks past his kiosk. Things are different here than they are in the city, that’s for sure. At Alyssa’s building, you need ID and a signature to get past the doorman—and even then, you can’t get onto an elevator until the tenant has been buzzed and notified.

Around here, apparently, if you don’t look like a threat, you’re not considered a threat. Maybe Lauren should discuss that with Nick—and question whether the kids are safe in a building with such lax security.

Then again, anyone who really wanted to could easily get into their own house. No security guard, no alarm system, windows covered only by flimsy screens, locks to which strangers have the keys…

Again, Lauren remembers what Sadie said about someone prowling around her room.

What if she was right? What if someone really did get into the house at some point while they were gone?

But nothing is missing. The electronics, Lauren’s jewelry…

When she got dressed a little while ago, she opened the chest on her dresser and saw her diamond engagement ring and gold wedding band right there on top. Anyone who was looking for something of value to steal wouldn’t have to look very hard—and probably wouldn’t waste any time in a four-year-old’s room.

Lauren steps into the elevator and pushes the button for the fourteenth floor.

The doors close, and she leans toward one of the mirrored walls to check her teeth for lipstick, then turns her back to the mirror and looks over her shoulder to make sure she doesn’t have any panty lines. She does, a little. She tugs the band into place, hoping there’s no security camera broadcasting her actions back to the lobby. Not that the guard is likely to be paying attention.

Why do you care what you look like, anyway? It’s just Nick.

He’s certainly seen her at her worst: sick with the flu, giving birth—and in a sobbing, crumpled, devastated heap when he told her he was leaving.

Maybe that’s why she wants to look her best now. To show him that she’s doing very well, thank you, without him.

The attractive woman in the mirror radiates self-assurance—regardless of how insecure she might be feeling inside.

On the fourteenth floor, Lauren steps into a wide, carpeted corridor.

She pictures her kids here. Nick probably tells them to keep their voices down.

She imagines Beth here, too. Maybe she has her own key so that she can come and go the way Lauren used to at Nick’s Manhattan apartment years ago, when they were newly dating.

No. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about any of the good times with him. You don’t want to go into this with your emotions all worked up.

Hell, she doesn’t want to go into this at all. She wants to turn around and walk out of Nick’s new life, the way he walked out of her old one.

But she can’t. She won’t.

So just take a deep breath and get it over with.



“Ryan! Lucy! Someone’s at the door!” Sadie calls.

No reply from the second floor. Her sister and brother are supposed to be in charge, but they’re still busy in their own little worlds, ignoring her.

As far as Sadie’s concerned, that means she’s in charge.

Chauncey is on all fours, still focused on the door.

She looks again at the silhouette in the window. She can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman.

The bell rings again.

Sadie reaches for the knob, hesitates, turns it. Opening the door, she’s surprised to see a familiar face.

“Hello, Sadie. How are you?”

“I’m good,” she replies tentatively. “How are you?”