Page 8 of The Housekeeper

Just what exactly have you gone through?I asked silently, another thought I kept to myself.

Tracy followed me down the street and up the concrete path to my parents’ front porch. “Wait,” she said again, stopping on the bottom of three stairs. “I need a minute.”

I was losing patience, about to say something I would probably regret, when the door opened.

Elyse Woodley stood, smiling, on the other side. She was wearing white pants and a lilac-colored T-shirt, the outfit highlighting her slim figure and well-toned arms. “Well, hello there, you two,” she said, her smile stretching toward her ears. “We were wondering what you were doing out here. Come in. Come in.”

Come in, come in,said the spider to the fly,I think now.

At the time, of course, I was thinking no such thing.

And by the time it occurred to me, it was too late.

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