As Aubrey skipped second grade, then sixth, and out-argued her teachers, school administrators made excuses for her behavior and touted her brilliance. Victoria and I knew trouble loomed. The only solace when the family disappeared was that my worries about Aubrey’s trajectory did as well. She was gone and I struggled to forget her. My mind rebelled at the idea of dealing with her again.
Breathe in for four. Hold for seven. Exhale for eight.
I could hear my former therapist’s steady voice, encouraging me to feel the stress drain from my body like air leaving a balloon. The usual coping mechanism didn’t work. Maybe I shouldn’t have canceled all those counseling appointments.
I knew from experience that dreaming up strategies and mentally testing them would shift my scattered focus and slow the adrenaline coursing through me. My nervous jumpiness needed an outlet. I had to turn this negative energy into action.
Various options crashed and tumbled over each other in my head. I tried to pull them apart and assess each one, but my muddled brain couldn’t hold on to a logical solution. A bonging sound echoed through me, rattling my bones. It came from a mental countdown I desperately tried to ignore.
First, the phone call I dreaded. A quick look out the sedan’s windows confirmed no one had lingered or was spying on me. With the car shut up tight my voice shouldn’t carry but strange things happened in Sleepy Hollow. Ghost stories drove touristtraffic but every now and then it felt like an otherworldly hand reached up and squeezed.
I preferred quiet. Peace. No cheap thrills or unexpected visitors.
Apparently Aubrey didn’t care about what I wanted.
“Fine.” I whispered the concession as I fought off fidgeting and reached for my cell.
The phone rang twice. I started talking, cutting off any chitchat or useless introductory nonsense before it could start. “We have a problem.”
Chapter Three
Hanna
If I didn’t keep moving I’d throw up.
I plunged the drinking glass into the soapy water a second time. I insisted on handwashing all of the café’s dishes, silverware, and glasses to avoid stains and spots. Today I used the monotonous exercise to settle my brain. To give my fingers something to do.
Sitting in that courtroom with Marni and Stella had taken a toll even before Aubrey’s dramatic entrance. Dealing with Marni and Stella at all, which I rarely did, brought back stark memories of two against one and being the person on the outside peeking in.
The two of them had a history. A friendship, or maybe a frenemy-ship. Was that a word? Who knew. The point was I played the role of interloper in their ongoing saga. One that started long before I arrived in town. As the younger, less educated, unwanted member of the trio, I was the person they tolerated because I knew their secrets. The kind of secrets that destroyed lives.
“Mom?”
Between running Sleepy Hollow Coffee and my inability to sleep more than four hours a night, my energy reserves were depleted. Even on the best day, I fueled up and ran on a dangerous mix of caffeine and blueberry muffins. A terrible diet, but the lack of wholesome nutrition wasn’t my main problem at the moment.
I put the glass in the drying rack and picked up a cloth. Time to wipe down the tables. Again. The abrupt end to the hearing landed me here between the breakfast rush and the steady stream of lunch patrons. I got back just in time to check on Daniela, my fabulous cook. The woman had been a pastry chef at a fancy restaurant in New York City for more than a decade. Its closing during the pandemic allowed her to follow the flood of city dwellers who traded easy access to everything for fresh air and miles of grass.
Daniela’s desire to slow down turned out to be my financial salvation. She made pastries and desserts that the whole town and all the tourists loved and ordered in abundance.
“Mom?”
Aubrey Tanner. Aubrey fucking Tanner.
It was wrong to hate a girl, but she was an adult now, so I felt comfortable disliking her from a distance. Back then she’d been sneaky. Too smart to miss the things other people missed. Too nosy to stay out of the way. She’d been Daddy’s little girl. I’d been Patrick’s part-time research assistant with a front-row seat to Aubrey’s parental manipulation.
I didn’t do it. I’d never destroy Mom’s expensive crystal. Not on purpose.
Just the memory of Aubrey’s scheming girl voice sent my anxiety spiking. She created trouble and thrived on the angry reactions that followed. I researched the termsociopathmore than once after listening to her calculated conversations with Patrick.
“Mom!”
I jumped at the sound of Jeremy’s voice. He was the same age now as I was when I got pregnant—nineteen. The idea of him carrying the type of secrets I did back then... Yeah, I’d kick his ass if he made decisions half as terrible as the ones I’d made. I wanted better for him.
What I really wanted was for Aubrey to disappear into the town’s haunting fog as quickly as she’d arrived. If only I were the lucky type, which I wasn’t.
“Sorry, hon. Did you need something?” My voice sounded a touch high, but Jeremy would miss that because he stumbled a bit when it came to reading social cues.
He smiled. “I called for you, like, ten times.”
