Lizzie felt awkward just leaving her sitting there because if she and Sarah stayed together long term, this woman would be her family by extension. Without another thought, she walked over and sat down on the opposite end of the couch.
“Hi. I’m Lizzie. I work with Sarah. Can I get you anything while you wait? Water? Coffee?”
The woman turned to look at her. Up close she looked rougher than Lizzie had initially thought. Red-rimmed eyes and deep lines around her mouth that spoke of years of hard living. When she smiled, Lizzie notices several missing teeth at the top and the bottom.
“You’re very kind. Do you know her well?” The woman’s voice was hoarse.
“Yes, we’re friends.”
“Sarah doesn’t talk about me, does she?”
Lizzie didn’t know what to say. “She mentioned she had family in Texas.”
The woman laughed. It was a bitter sound. “Texas? I’ve never been to Texas in my life. I live in Wisconsin. Always have.”
Lizzie’s confusion must have shown on her face.
“She didn’t tell you that, did she?” The woman shook her head. “My daughter’s good at rewriting history. Making herself look better.”
Lizzie frowned. This was beyond strange. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”
“Isolde. Isolde Fairview.” She opened her purse again and pulled out a tissue. Dabbed at her eyes. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with Sarah for months. Calls go straight to voicemail. Emails bounce back. I finally just drove down here. Took me three days.”
“You drove from Wisconsin?”
“I didn’t have money for a plane ticket. My car barely made it.” Isolde twisted the tissue in her hands. “We’re in trouble, my husband and me. We really need our daughter to show up for us.”
Our daughter? Sarah hadn’t mentioned a stepfather. Not once.
The woman continued. “Her father needs new teeth. They all had to be pulled. He can barely eat. We lost our home. We live in a motel.” Isolde looked around. “Nothing like this. Nothing so fancy.”
Lizzie barely listened because the wordsher fatherrung in her head. Sarah’s father? Not stepfather?
“Did you say her father? Don’t you mean stepfather?”
Isolde shook her head and looked at her as if she’d sprouted a second head.
“No. Sarah’s father is not dead. Did she say that? Oh, that would break Gerald’s heart.” She dabbed at her eyes with a ratty looking napkin she’d pulled from her purse.”
Sarah lied about her father? How could she? It was one of the things they had bonded over, having lost their fathers. Or at least Lizzie felt as though they had bonded. Was it all a lie?
“She told me her father died.”
Isolde snorted, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “She has always been troubled. Telling tall tales about us to everyone who’d listen. I was hoping the years would change her but no. I was wrong. I should have let her go to that detention center when she was thirteen and wrecked our car.”
Lizzie’s jaw dropped. What in the world was this all about? Was this woman crazy? Sarah Barnes in detention for wrecking a car? Lizzie looked around, wondering if she was in some strange prank video. Then she spotted Sarah at the bottom of the staircase. She must have gotten the message from the front desk. When she saw her mother sitting with Lizzie, her face went completely white.
Then it hardened into ice.
That ice queen expression Lizzie hadn’t seen in weeks. The one from her first day at the hotel. Cold and distant and completely shut down.
Sarah strode across the lobby. Her heels clicked on the tile with sharp precision.
“Lizzie. Go upstairs and wait for me in my office.”
Her voice was sharp. Commanding. Not the soft tone she used when they were alone.
“Sarah, I was just—”
