Two Truths and a Lie(71)

There were a lot of other comments too, most encouraging, some obnoxious. But the thing that stood out the most to Rebecca was the number of views: Alexa’s videos averaged in the tens of thousands! The highest viewed video Rebecca saw had been viewed thirty-seven thousand times!

A lot of people were watching Alexa Thornhill do her thing online.

Then there was this. Not a single one of the dresses Alexa was wearing in the videos looked familiar to Rebecca. Morgan was exactly right: they were more conservative than Alexa’s usual garb. They were very pretty! But where had they come from? Where did they live?

Granted, Alexa was almost preternaturally self-sufficient. She’d been doing her own laundry since the age of nine, and now that she could drive, Rebecca supposed it was possible that she had her own account at Anton’s dry cleaning. How much money was she making from this YouTube thing? And how far apart had she and Alexa grown, that Alexa could have this whole identity, this whole life, this whole wardrobe, that Rebecca knew nothing about? In the past this was something she would have taken immediately to Peter, of course, and failing that, to one of the Mom Squad members. Probably Gina! Before the sleeping bag incident, Gina would have been happy to lend an ear, and Rebecca would have trusted her. But now—now the earth had shifted beneath her feet in all kinds of unsettling ways, and now she had nobody. Well, not nobody.

She pulled up Daniel’s number on her phone and typed out a text.

Can you meet me tomorrow at Maudslay? I want to tell you something.



She held her breath, but the reply came almost immediately. I would love to.

After that, the three dots, then another text came in.

I miss you.



She didn’t even hesitate before texting back, I miss you too.

The next day they did their usual thing, which was to park on opposite ends of the parking lot and meet up once they’d gotten on their way. They usually walked down the road a bit before entering the park; Rebecca liked to go in by the Gates of Hell rather than via the more common entrance, by the rangers’ cottage at the beginning of the property.

“First things first,” said Rebecca. “Daniel, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry about that whole thing at the tall ships.” She took a deep breath and turned to face Daniel. “I’m sorry I told you that you need to live in a box.”

Bernice gave them a baleful look, as if to say, Are we walking, or are we spending all day apologizing?

“No, I’m sorry,” said Daniel. “I need to let you do things in your own time. I didn’t mean to pressure you, or rush you. I understand that our situations are different, I do. I can wait until you’re ready, Rebecca. It turns out that being in a box with you is way better than being outside the box without you.”

“It is? Are you sure?”

“Way better,” said Daniel. “Way, way better.”

Just like that, an enormous weight lifted itself from Rebecca’s shoulders and disappeared into the summer morning air. Just like that. Maybe everything didn’t have to be so hard after all.

The Gates of Hell were wrought-iron gates that used to lead to one of the mansions on the property, back when the mansions still stood. There was a rumor that the Gates were haunted, and that late at night you could see the heads of decapitated family members on the spikes, even though no murders had ever taken place on the estate to anyone’s knowledge. Nevertheless, Rebecca shivered and tried not to look at the gates.

“Are you worried about the decapitated heads again?” Daniel asked.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted.

Daniel glanced up. “If we saw the ghosts of murdered people, I would do everything in my power to protect you.” He stepped behind Rebecca and wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on the top of her head. This was one of the things about dating someone new after years and years with the same person: you got to see how your body would fit with someone else’s, and sometimes there were unexpected surprises in that. Peter had been very tall, and would have had to stoop to rest his chin on Rebecca’s head. It was never worth the effort.

Immediately Rebecca felt disloyal for thinking that about Peter. He would have stooped for her all day long if she’d wanted him to.

They passed through the gates and began to walk along the dirt path.

Daniel tapped the side of his thigh for Bernice to catch up—she tended to lag, especially early in the morning. She was not a morning person. Obviously she wasn’t a person at all.

“Oh!” Rebecca said. “Here’s what I wanted to tell you. You’re not going to believe this. I just found out that Alexa has this entire YouTube channel called Silk Stockings. She dresses up in pretty, tasteful clothes, and she sits in this chair in her bedroom, and she explains things. Terms. Economic terms, things about the stock market.”

“Oh yeah?” said Daniel. He stopped and turned toward Rebecca. “Like what sorts of things?”

Rebecca named the topics she remembered: stop-loss orders, crypto currency investments. “Blockchain, maybe?” she said. “Is that a thing?”

“It’s a thing,” Daniel said. He was smiling to beat the band.

“What?” she said. “What are you so cheerful about over there?”

“Nothing. Just that I taught her a lot of those things.”

“You did?”