will make it to print? The accident that claimed your mother’s life and ruined your track career? Sounds like a juicy movie to me.”
Morgan’s stomach tumbled all the way to her knees, and she clung to the door, because if she didn’t, she would have collapsed.
“Go away.” It started as a whisper but ended on a wail. “Go away!”
“You heard the lady. Get the hell off this property, or I’ll toss your skinny ass myself.” The threat was real, and as Hank jumped onto the porch, quickly followed by Sara, the reporter realized he’d overstayed his welcome. Clutching his equipment against his chest, he slid past Hank and jogged to the van parked at the edge of the driveway.
“Morgan.” Sara’s voice was soft, and all it took was one look. One look and she fell into her sister’s arms.
How long they stood in the doorway, Sara’s arms around Morgan, was unclear. But after a while, the room came into focus, and, like an old friend returning, the mask she’d put away weeks ago came back. It slipped over her. In her. There were no thoughts in her head. No questions. No possible answers to questions. There was nothing.
It was strange but familiar.
She extricated herself from her sister’s grasp, and Hank and Sara followed her all the way to the kitchen. No one said a thing, and for nearly five minutes, Morgan stared out the window into the backyard. She noticed the lilacs in the corner near the shed were blooming. The grass needed cutting. The garden should be tilled.
Eventually, she became aware of a few things. One, she’d dug her nails into her palms so hard, they’d drawn blood. And two, her sister stood beside her and was speaking.
“What was that?” she asked Sara, voice calm as she reached for the tap to run her hands under the water. She stayed focused, scrubbing methodically until the blood was gone.
“Are you okay?”
Morgan didn’t ponder the question. Didn’t bother to answer it. Instead, she turned around and smoothed her hands over her thighs. Damp marks trailed across the worn denim, and she rubbed at them, glancing up at her sister.
“How did you know?”
Sara looked at Hank, and the big man shrugged.
“I was over at Hank’s place, and we were, ah, just talking, and I wanted to know what the weather was going to be on the weekend because we were thinking of going to Boston.” Sara waited a few beats as if expecting some sort of reaction, but Morgan stared at her blankly, waiting for her to finish.
“I put on the TV and was channel-surfing for the weather network and I…well, we saw the story on some stupid tabloid show.”
Morgan pushed away from the kitchen sink and headed back to the front room. Sara and Hank followed quietly, and no one said a word as Morgan scooped up the remote and turned on the television.
She didn’t have to look long. Not only were the trashy tabloid sites carrying the story, but other, more traditional outlets were as well. She leaned against the chair and, suddenly cold, wrapped her arms around herself. A young blonde reporter read from her teleprompter as the screen behind her lit up with pictures of a young Cooper Simon and an ingénue, a young starlet named Holly Adams.
A loud knock at the door sounded, but Morgan didn’t bother to look up as it opened. She couldn’t even if she wanted to. She heard voices, Hank, Sara, and…
With a deep exhale, she glanced over to the entryway. Hank stood with legs spread and arms folded, the large body all but blocking Cooper’s way into the front room. She couldn’t look into his eyes, not yet.
“Let him in.” She spoke quietly, and at first no one heard her. She repeated herself once more, this time much louder, and when the voices stopped, she turned her attention back to the television. She knew Cooper was in the room. She felt his gaze on her. And she knew when he turned away, lured by his past and the truths he’d kept to himself.
The reporter’s Boston accent was muted, and the soft cadence of her voice filled Morgan’s head.
“Miss Adams has been living in Switzerland since her parents whisked her out of the country and committed her to a treatment facility that specializes in addiction and mental illness. No word on whether she’s been in touch with her former lover, Cooper Simon, and so far no comment on the sordid details of their