Whatever confidence she once had in her beauty as a woman, it was long gone.
She was grateful to be alive. And she wasn't going to wait around to start living the life she wanted. Not when it could be taken away at any time.
Her face was still hot as she went back to the pile of unfolded clothes that had grown considerably smaller. "Let's not argue."
Iris didn't push the issue. "I need a glass of water."
Iris disappeared into the kitchen, and Jilly attacked the remaining laundry with a fervor born from her frustration with her sister.
It wasn't Iris's fault. Her sister would never know what it felt like to be in Jilly's shoes. Mom would've understood. But Mom hadn't survived her bout with cancer.
Iris was slow to return, then stood hesitantly in the doorway with her glass in hand. "Do you... need anything? I was going to ask how things were going but..."
She trailed off and jerked one thumb over her shoulder.
Confused, Jilly shrugged. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Iris's eyes grew wide her. "You haven't looked out back? Out the kitchen window?"
What was she talking about? Jilly strode toward the kitchen, Iris falling back so that she could get through the doorway.
One glance outside, and she instantly saw what her sister had been talking about.
Noah's house had been vandalized. She couldn't see the full message from here. She didn't have to. In black spray paint were two words. Two crude curse words.
Was the message for her or for Noah?
For her. Because she'd punished them with no TV for a week for their prank. PJ had been repentant. He'd done the small chores she'd asked of him, like putting away the clean dishes, cleaning his room, doing his homework without complaint. Casey had been stubbornly distant.
And now this.
She hadn't even drawn a breath past the one that had lodged painfully in her chest when the phone rang.
An omen?
Hands shaking, she took the phone out of her hip pocket and glanced at the display. It was Aiden, Noah's assistant.
For a minute she flashed hot and then cold. How could he know?
He couldn't, could he?
Aiden's voice wasn't apologetic or embarrassed this time, only cool.
"Miss Tatum, last night, your foster daughter apparently walked over to Noah's house and scratched"—his voice rose in inflection as if he was asking a question—"on his door."
Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, making it hard to hear him. "What?"
"Apparently your—"
"I'm sorry. I heard you, I just…"
Lindsey had snuck out and gone to Noah's house?
"What time exactly?"
"He said it was after midnight."
"Midnight?" She could only seem to parrot the young man, as shocked and upset as she was.
