Page 225 of Mad Girl

The hard look of suspicion on her face made my stomach churn, so I joined her on the edge of my bed, plucked the diamond-encrusted B off her chest, and stroked it with my thumb. “Michael and I were outside talking about all that stuff with my mom. I’m so stupid for thinking the woman watching my house was her.”

Bree’s shoulders relaxed as she considered this. “It was odd that she took a picture of you.”

“I know, right?” I dropped her pendant and shrugged. “Whoever she was, my dad got rid of her. She’s gone.”

“I’m sorry, Ellie. I know the mom stuff really bothers you.”

“Well, we can’t all have a mom as perfect as yours.”

“Trust me,” Bree said, averting her gaze. “My mom isn’t perfect. Not by a long shot.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just—there’s the Libby you know, and then there’s another Libby. One who will do whatever it takes to get what she wants.”

Intrigued, I asked, “Like what? Give me an example.”

Bree stared at me a minute, hesitating. “Your dad was on the fence about sending you to that treatment center. He didn’t want to—but my mom talked him into it. She said you needed more help than he could give you, that he needed to stop thinking he could keep you stable on his own, that if he didn’t do something soon, you might end up making him regret it. When he didn’t send you, she got mad.”

I jerked back, appalled. “Are you serious?”

Bree nodded.

“But why would she want me to go when I actually didn’t hurt myself?”

“Okay, let me just point out that my mom loves you, Ellie. She really does. But I think she wanted you out of the way during her campaign. Wanted you far away, where you couldn’t somehow screw this up for her.”

My heart dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

“But it all worked out, you know? She didn’t get her way, you’re here, and everything’s fine.”

“Everything’s fine?” Rage, thunderous and dark, filled my voice. “Libby tried to manipulate my dad into getting rid of me. I’m pissed at your mom right now.”

“I’m pissed at her, too—for many reasons.”

“What else has she done?”

Bree hesitated again. “If I tell you this, you can’t say anything, okay? Especially to your dad.”

“To my dad? Why?”

“Because it involves him.”

“I won’t say anything,” I said, but it already felt like a lie.

Bree turned her body to face mine. “Okay, so you know how my dad made me sleep in the parents’ wing over the summer?”

I nodded.

“Well, early one morning, I started to leave the guest bedroom and…” Bree trailed off, chewing hard on her bottom lip.

“And what, Bree?”

“I saw my mom leaving Nic’s bedroom.”

“Okay…”

“I tried telling myself they were probably just talking. But she looked half-asleep, like she does when she first wakes up, and what she wore made it even more difficult for me to believe that.”