The Lost Girl of Astor Street(57)

“So we’re doing this, then?” Mariano’s face is solemn. “You and me?”

I nod. “We’re doing this.”

Mariano seems to hesitate only a moment before leaning close and brushing his lips against mine. And when the kiss is over, I can’t help thinking how much I would have enjoyed telling Lydia.





CHAPTER


FIFTEEN


When I awake, the guilt is swift and sharp.

How could I?

My eyes press tight against the pale morning light. There had been no angel Lydia advising me that I couldn’t outrun death. No sinister, faceless men snatching her from the streets before I could stop them. No gag that I attempted to pull from her mouth only to never reach the end.

There had been no dreams at all.

Sidekick nudges my cheek with his wet nose, urging me out of bed before he leaps to the floor.

But I make myself lie there and think about her. Make myself draw the coroner’s report from my nightstand drawer, from its place beside Matthew’s letter, tucked in Mother’s Bible.

When I select my dress for the day, I choose one with pockets and tuck Lydia’s photograph inside. I may have no choice about Lydia’s life stopping while mine goes on, but I refuse to let her drift too far from my thoughts.

I tromp downstairs for breakfast and find Joyce scribbling out a grocery list as she finishes her coffee and toast. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Joyce.” I reach up into the cabinet and pull down a mug.

“Your father is in his office. Said he wanted to see you. What can I fix you for breakfast?”

“I’ll just have coffee for now, thank you.”

Joyce moves her attention from her list to me. “You’re not dieting, are you? You’re a rail already.”

“No. Just not hungry yet.”

Because my stomach is too twisted in knots over last night—Mariano’s smile, his lips, his hands—to consider anything more substantial than coffee. I fill Sidekick’s food bowl and then carry my coffee to Father’s office.

“Oh, good,” Father greets me. “I have to leave to meet Jane soon, and I hoped you’d be up before I left. Have a seat.”

I grab the chair that Nick often uses when they’re reviewing a case together and drag it over to the desk.

Father scribbles his signature on some official-looking document as he asks, “What do you have planned for the day?”

“I thought I would pay a visit to Mrs. Barrow. I haven’t seen their baby yet.”

Father’s pen stops moving. He looks up at me, eyebrows arched in amusement. “I’m sorry. I asked Joyce to send in my daughter, Piper Sail. You must be an imposter.”

“Very funny.” I sip at my coffee and curse my big mouth. Did I really have to be so vocal all these years about my distaste for children? “I’m just being neighborly.”

“I think you’ll have a chance to be neighborly very soon. Joyce was just telling me that Mrs. Barrow has an appointment of some kind and is bringing Cole here this morning. I’m sure she’ll welcome your help with him.”

I never thought the opportunity to look after a child would delight me, but this is perfect. Now I can observe Cole for extended time without the threat of David Barrow. “Oh, good. Do you know when?”

Father blinks at me. “You’re scaring me. The daughter I know would have fled the house the moment she heard a person under the age of ten intended to enter it.”

I grasp for a plausible lie. “Lydia used to look after Cole. I suppose I feel connected to her when I’m around him.”

“That reminds me. I have something for you.” He pats at his pockets. “I’ve had Joyce helping rearrange the bedroom to prepare for Jane, and we found something of your mother’s that had fallen behind a dresser.”

I sit up straight.

“Ah, here it is.” From an inside pocket, Father pulls out a long silver chain with a pendant of some kind. “Actually, it wasn’t exactly your mother’s. It’s yours. Mother bought it several weeks before she passed, intending it to be a present for your thirteenth birthday. She was so frustrated with herself for misplacing it. Joyce found it still in the velvet bag it came in. We’re guessing it slipped back behind the dresser.”

The oval pendant is actually a locket, silver and simple. My thirteen-year-old self would have been delighted to receive such a grown-up present.

One last gift from my mother. I must be the most fortunate girl in the world. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Open her up.”

I slide my thumbnail along the seam and pop the tiny clasp. Lydia’s beautiful face looks back at me. “Lydia.” The word is a whisper.

“I planned to put your mother’s portrait in there, but Jane suggested Lydia’s. This way, you have a piece of both of them with you all the time.”

I rub the pad of my thumb over my friend’s face. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

Sidekick erupts with a string of barks, and his nails scrape against the wood floor as he scrambles out of Father’s office.

“Cole must be here.” Father smooths his vest as he stands. “Last chance to escape.”

I tuck the locket into the pocket of my dress and stand as well. “Don’t tempt me. I’m trying to grow, Father.”