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“Collin, you can’t be serious! You’re giving everything up for a girl like—”
“A girl likewhat?” he asked, challenging her to say it to his face.
“You’ll see,” she growled. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Good-bye, Gale,” I said to her, opening our door, wishing I could kick her square in the ass on her way out.
“I’m sorry, Gale,” Collin said, meaning it, with that sweet familial tone he reserved just for her. But Gale could no longer speak. She couldn’t move.
I cleared my throat aggressively. “We’re both asking you to leavenow.”
Gale looked to Collin once more, desperately trying to connect with him, meet his eye, willing him to say something, but he wouldn’t look at her, much less speak to her. His focus was entirely on me. As it should be.
When Gale crossed the threshold, my hand on the door, she stared at me before leaving. A full five seconds. Enormous evil in her eye, possessing a callousness I had yet to see from her. She was no longer having fun. Neither was I. Gale smirked upon leaving, a small snort in my direction. A feeling of disquiet fell over me. Those eyes. Her eyes.
They reminded me of Mother.
CHAPTER
17
I RECEIVED Aphone call from Syl first thing in the morning at the office. Odd timing. Perhaps Collin wasn’t handling the previous night’s events very well. Even though he had done exactly as I asked, effectively banishing Gale from our home, I worried about the potential repercussions that could manifest in my marriage. My husband and I hadn’t said very much to each other for the remainder of that evening after Gale left. Sharing dinner and tears and promises that he would seek help using the appropriate channels. Further, I wondered how she would retaliate. I knew she would. I just didn’t know how. What other moves did she have to make? She could be desperate. And a desperate woman knows no bounds.
“Do you have lunch free today?” Syl asked me, a waver in her voice. Couldn’t that have been a text?
“Is everything all right? You sound upset. Is Collin okay?”
“Yeah, he seems fine. I’m fine.”
“Okay, well, I don’t think today works for lunch, but I could look to—”
“Actually, it’s important. Can I pull the friendship card here? I really have to talk to you about something,” Syl said.
“All right,” I said, my interest fully piqued. The friendship card! “I can shift some things around. Where and what time?” I had no idea what Syl wanted to discuss, but the tone of her voice suggested something dramatic. So did the unfamiliar meeting place she selected. A tavern of some kind, poor signage, a place you’d walk right past. The interior was dark, not very crowded, but the crowd that had gathered was a bit rough. Very rough. It wasn’t really a place to dine, more a place to drink. Or plan a murder.
Syl was already there when I arrived, sitting anxiously in the corner booth, her knee bouncing up and down underneath the table. She gave me the smallest of waves and the smallest of smiles. She was a bundle of nervous energy, unable to sit still.
“Syl, hi. Are you okay?” I asked her, approaching the table. “What is this place?” I laughed a little to lighten the mood, but she didn’t join me.
“I know. I’m sorry it’s a dive, but I wanted to go somewhere more private.” Her voice was shakier than it had been on the phone. She spoke faster than normal. I sat down next to her, considerably concerned about what she was going to say.
“Is this about John?” I asked, wondering if she just needed a friend and a shot or two, post-breakup. And really, it was high time she dumped him. He had nothing to offer her.
“No, no. John’s fine.” Syl bit her nails. I’d never noticed her doing that before.
“Okay. Well, I’m here,” I replied, unable to hide the minorannoyance in my voice. Out with it already! The suspense was getting to be too much and I was on edge as it was.
“I know, I know,” she said softly, eyes down at the table, as if she was psyching herself up.
“Should I be afraid?” I took a seat next to her in the booth, but not too close.
Syl finally looked me in the eye. Hers were glassy, coated with tears at the ready to begin their descent down her cheeks. It was dire, and strangely, no,impossibly, I felt like I knew what she was about to say before she even said it aloud.
“I think you might be my sister,” she whispered.
I waited for a follow-up statement in sheer panic mode, bewildered at the thought. For a moment, my mind immediately went to Gale, but I couldn’t connect any dots. Plus, Syl was legitimately crying. She was emotional and upset, but from where on earth did she pull such a ridiculous notion? How? And why did I think she could be telling the truth? It was a lovely and horrifying thought all at the same time.
Sisters.
