Page 21

I let out a moan and lean back, covering my eyes with my hands. It’s like I’m suddenly picturing the rest of my life coming apart, collapsing in front of me. I had this whole idea laid out about the future I’d be spending with Clark—how I’d be his naughty girl who would learn from him and do everything he wanted me to do. Now I feel tossed aside like a piece of garbage.

“He didn’t say anything about her to you?”

I wave an angry hand in the air. “There was no time for that,” I groan. “She was standing right there, and I just had to leave, so I rushed out and came back here. He didn’t even come after me…probably back there having sex with her.”

Yeah, I’m pouting. But I can’t stop myself. After such a high being with him in his office, then in his bedroom, going to this feels like I’ve fallen into an abyss.

“Do you even know her name?” Sasha asks.

“Karen,” I snap. The letters taste like acidic hot sauce on my tongue. “Her name was Karen.”

There’s a pause from Sasha, and I look up to see her thinking. She’s doing that thing she always does where she clicks her nails against her front teeth, then frowns at me. “Karen who?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. She was wearing these tiny jean shorts and this crop-top T-shirt—”

“Oh no,” Sasha says, instantly going to her phone.

“What? What is it?” I don’t have a clue, but my heart is already racing.

“Hang on…” she says, swiping her screen. I feel like I’m going to burst. Is it possible she knows this woman? But how? That seems impossible. Then again, Sasha does seem to know everybody. I wouldn’t be shocked if she had a story about meeting Brad Pitt.

Moments later, she shows me her phone, and a gasp snakes out of my throat. My heart skips a beat. There, right there on her screen, is a picture of Karen. Only she’s not holding a baby. She’s just standing in front of an old red station wagon.

“Is this her?” Sasha asks.

“Yes!” I blurt out, snatching her phone from her. My eyes go wide as I stare down at the photo. It’s like déjà vu or seeing a ghost. “How do you have that!?”

Sasha’s face turns dark and cloudy. “Her name is Karen Bernhart. She’s…let’s just say she’s not all there.”

“Not all there?”

My head is already not working right, and this photo isn’t helping. I sit up all the way, trying to get ahold of myself. Sasha is back to typing on her phone.

“Sasha?” I ask, waving my hand. “Hello? What do you mean ‘not all there’?”

“My friend, Marlee, played soccer with her a couple years ago. Then she got…obsessed with some guy.”

“Obsessed?” I ask, my voice quivering. Is she talking about Clark? She must be. And that explains the baby in her arms. She got obsessed with Clark, had his baby, and Clark ran off, just like she said. But Sasha is still texting, and by the look on her face now, she likes whatever she’s reading.

“Yeah, it was actually a really big thing,” she mutters, fingers tapping away. “The guy wasn’t even interested in her, but she just wouldn’t stop coming after him. It was like out of a horror movie or something.”

Now my whole body feels fuzzy, and not in a good way. I’m trying to process, but it’s like my internal computer is glitching. It’s like I’m just now realizing the wave of happiness that swept over me and has held me for the last few days. Karen just showing up is like the whole ceiling is crashing down on me.

“Sasha—”

“Yeah, I thought so,” she mutters, looking up from her phone. There’s a mischievous blaze in her eyes that causes my breath to catch.

“What?” I plead. “What is it?”

My thoughts are all over the place. I need an answer to all this or I’m going to burst.

Sasha’s lips twist into the tiniest of smiles as she turns the phone to me. “You need to see this.”

14

CLARK

Sitting in my office chair, I drum my fingers on the desk, my eyes locked on the couch where Maisy and I had our first ‘lesson.’