Dune Road - By Jane Green Page 0,113

strips Annabel’s sheets off the bed and throws them in the washing machine, pulls her clothes off the shelves and packs them unceremoniously in Annabel’s suitcase.

She finds more of her own things, jewelry, scarves, shirts, all stained and crumpled, or thrown carelessly around the room—one gold and moonstone earring, one of Kit’s favorites, is lying in the corner of the room, the other has seemingly disappeared.

She sweeps up Annabel’s stuff, removes hers, and cleans.

Get rid of her, goes over and over in her head, like a mantra. Get rid of her.

She uses Pledge on every surface to get rid of her smell, her perfume. Going into the bathroom she gets rid of the soap—even the thought of using the same soap fills her with horror. Kit doesn’t want anything in the house that will remind her of Annabel, she wants nothing that Annabel has touched.

Compulsive, perhaps. But Kit needs to do this. Needs to clean up the physical evidence in a bid to feel clean herself, for right now she feels dirty and disgusting, and furious.

Her mother was right. She stole her statements and God knows what she was going to do with them. She has checked and rechecked, but nothing has been transferred, nothing changed. But to be on the safe side, she called everyone this morning and canceled her cards, put her bank on alert for any unusual transfers.

And then there is the thought of Annabel and Adam. Again she thinks of it and shudders as she pushes the tears away.

There will be time for crying later. Right now she is furious. And there is work to be done.

Annabel pushes the door open, feeling sick. She doesn’t want to go back to Kit’s, but how can she not? Her time here is up. She thought, hoped, that Adam would rescue her, that he would step in and look after her, stand up for her, but the Adam that walked back into the house this morning was a stranger.

He wanted nothing to do with her. She saw his guilt, every time he looked at her, and nothing she said, whispering furiously so Tory wouldn’t hear, seemed to change his mind.

It was over, he said. As quickly as it started. It was a mistake, he said. One he should never have made. He didn’t know what he was thinking, he said. And then he said he was sorry, and the look in his eyes told her there was no going back.

So where is she supposed to go? She came here to find a new life. A fresh start. She came here hoping to reenter her mother’s life, to have the helping hand she never had during the early years. And when she got here, she found a family she wanted, but it wasn’t enough to be the sister. She wanted to be Kit, to have what she has. She wanted Adam, the house, the kids, the security.

She wanted to belong.

Her suitcases are lined neatly by the door. She isn’t surprised. It is exactly what she expected. The house is spotless. She smells beeswax and lavender and detergent, and as she stands nervously in the living room, unsure what to say, she hears Kit’s footsteps, and Kit is there, in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed, body language telling Annabel that everything is closed. There is no going back.

“You packed my bags.”

“I did. I’d like you to leave immediately.”

“Can we at least talk about things? ”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m appalled at you. And more, I’m appalled at myself. That I let you into my life, and trusted you with my family, and you betrayed me in every way possible. I have no idea what you were planning to do with my financial information, but you’ll find that everything has now been changed. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I then discover you have been sleeping with my ex-husband. You make me sick, and I never want to see you again.”

Annabel, defensive when she walked in, starts to crumple in the face of Kit’s cold fury. There is nothing she can say. No excuses she can think of. Only that she had an opportunity, and she has fucked it up more than she ever would have believed possible.

“I’m sorry,” she says finally.

“I realize that. I realize you’re sorry now. I think you spend your life treading on people, and then saying sorry, and expecting the apology to make everything fine. I opened my life to you. I opened my

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