Page 34 of The Right Kind of Wrong

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Blake pulled into the driveway as the sun was setting, looking toward the house to her right.

She’d been expecting to see Maisie in her first class of the day, and she was disappointed when she realized that the pint-sized version of Monroe wasn’t in attendance.

Blake smiled as she parked her truck and then walked slowly toward her own house, thinking about the two of them. Monroe was going to have to spend a lot of time correcting people who thought that they were mother and daughter because Maisie was the spitting image of her aunt.

They had the same dark, curly hair. The same arresting blue eyes. The same dimple in their left cheek even, which Blake had noticed earlier this week when they’d all been outside.

Her smile came easily as she thought about the two of them together. Then, it dimmed when she considered that Maisie could be sick. Little kids were constantly picking up illnesses, especially at daycare, and she wondered, if that was the case, how Monroe was faring.

She glanced down at her watch. Maisie was probably already asleep, even though it was still light out. They were on the cusp of the summer solstice, so the sun still hung high in the sky until almost nine p.m.

Blake Bettencourt - 8:03 p.m.

Hey, neighbor. Y’all doing okay? Missed Maisie at class tonight.

Blake reread the text before sending it, wondering if she was coming on too strong.

No, she reasoned with herself. It was completely normal to check in on friends. Or people that she hoped would one day become friends.

Being cast out of her social circle had made Blake more than a little skittish to reach out to people. Silence, she found, was sometimes crueler than what the Allison Landry-Haases of the world liked to do.

Sure, Allison toyed with her prey, but the abject silence of being made to feel invisible by people like Stephanie hurt worse, surprisingly.

It was one of those things she couldn’t have known without experiencing it herself.

Her phone buzzed as she was opening her front door, and she looked at the text immediately.

Monroe Lockhart - 8:03 p.m.

Tough night. Maisie had a bit of a meltdown before class that just kept going for hours. A real unleashing of the grievances

As far as Blake could tell, Monroe was doing everything that she could to take care of Maisie, but she also knew there were a lot of other emotions in play. Ones that Monroe couldn’t control, no matter how hard she tried.

Blake Bettencourt - 8:03 p.m.

Can I do anything to help?

Monroe Lockhart - 8:04 p.m.

Build a time machine to bring my mom back? It’s the only thing that Maisie wants

Another response followed quickly after.

Monroe Lockhart - 8:04 p.m.

I’m sorry. That was a weird and shitty thing to say. It’s been A DAY

Blake laughed and dropped her dance bag near the door, firing off a response seconds later.

Blake Bettencourt - 8:05 p.m.

Weird and shitty are my go-to’s lately. I spend my days with greasy men and my nights with kids whose parents want them to be the next Little Miss Cypress Falls. It’s probably harder than you think to shock me.

Monroe Lockhart - 8:05 p.m.

Didn’t you win that?