The Neighbor's Secret(75)

“Dr. Shapiro said go kill Laurel Perley in your video game?”

“No, but she’s always telling me to channel my feelings into something harmless.”

“This isn’t what she meant. How would you feel if Laurel killed you in a video game?”

A small smile. “She’s not really smart enough to do that.”

Jen sighed with frustration. “The game is so disturbing that Colin—Colin—forwarded it to her.”

“Colin is not as loyal as you think.”

“What does that even mean?” Jen did not understand why Colin hadn’t come to her first.

Yes you do. You know exactly why. Jen was so in denial, so incapable of seeing Abe clearly that even Colin believed telling her would be pointless.

“I’m trying really hard,” Abe said. “But everything I do is wrong.”

Do you think Abe has plans to hurt his friend?

Jen had looked Nan squarely in the eye and said, Of course not.

“Like the vandalism?” Jen said.

“I didn’t do that.”

“I spend a lot of time defending you.” Jen’s voice was cool. “But I don’t know that I believe you.”

Abe’s neck flushed an angry red. “I’m. Not. The. Vandal.” His scream ripped his voice raw. “Stop doubting me.”

He snatched the pepper shaker from the table, hurled it across the room. Jen watched dispassionately as it crashed into the surface of the island and bounced to the floor, where it broke open, bleeding peppercorns.

She couldn’t do it anymore. Her heart was a husk and all she wanted to do was sleep.

The door from the garage slammed open and shut. “It’s me,” Paul yelled. “Back from the mines.

“Hello, gang!” Paul was slightly breathless as he arrived in the kitchen, suitcase behind him. He looked back and forth between them and the broken glass and the peppercorns spilled across the floor. “What’d I miss?”



No one is writing any condolence notes to the deceased’s parents. People blame them for creating a monster and setting him loose on the world.

I think that life tends to be more complicated that.

He did awful things, yes, but he was so, so young. He had his entire life ahead of him.

I seem to be alone in wanting to believe there was hope for his redemption.





CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN



Congratulations Laurel!

A hand-painted sign had been posted on the gate to greet party guests. Above it was a giant rainbow balloon archway.

The dull throbbing in Annie’s head intensified as she walked through. Lena was across the lawn, in a canary-yellow party dress that seemed to glow in the late-afternoon light.

She waved excitedly, speed-walked over to Annie, looped her arm through.

“You look wonderful, but you’ll still let me do some makeup, yes? The cat eye, as discussed, but first, a tour,” she said. “Most of the food will be in that tent, except for the butler-passed. Chicken nuggets and mac and cheese for the kids is over there, and on the other side will be the sushi chef, who isn’t here yet, but Hilde says he’s en route. Hilde!” Lena shouted at a woman in a dark suit, who had one finger pressed to her ear and talked into a headset. “This is Annie, mother of the guest of honor.”

Hilde nodded distractedly at Annie.

“Here is the promised adults-only area,” Lena continued, chipper and mile-a-minute. “Hilde persuaded me to do the Moroccan Fantasy theme with the rugs and throw pillows. I didn’t go for the belly dancer or the hookah, I thought that would be a little too too—but this is as far away from the speakers as possible, ha, ha, and there’ll be a little bar here, but I don’t want you to worry, the bartenders will card anyone and everyone they’re not sure of, and the DJ will be fabulous, I think, he’s got all sorts of goodies for the kids, but loud, you know. He’ll be loud.”

After the briefest of eye contact, Lena looked away.

“That caftan looks fantastic on you,” she said. “I knew it would, the blue brings out your eyes. How does Laurel look in the lavender dress? Where is Laurel?”

“I came up first,” Annie said. “To talk.”

Lena’s shoulders sagged. She gestured to the couch closest to them. “Shall we sit?” She spoke in a high pitch. “Let’s sit.”

Annie nodded. They sat down shoulder-to-shoulder.

“Laurel is not Mike’s biological child,” Annie said.

Next to her, Lena went entirely still.

“We weren’t going to ever tell her. But in science, they did a lab that tested their blood types, and she’d remembered Mike’s from the school blood drive.” Annie gave a dry laugh. “She’s known since October, apparently. We’ve been trying to talk it through for hours, Mike and I, trying to explain why we didn’t tell her, and Hank is so upset, and Laurel’s just. She’s just—”

Lena stood up, then sat back down. She pressed her lips together hard enough that they seemed to disappear and nodded several times to herself, as if coming to terms with a new reality.

“Should we cancel tonight?” she asked finally.

“Laurel insists on having the party. For her real friends, she says, and she claims to be over it, that she’s already dealt with it, which is obviously bullshit.”