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He rests a hand on my shoulder but doesn’t sit. “The ER needs another anesthesiologist tonight. I won’t say yes if you want me home with you. After everything we’ve been through today, I want to be here for you if you need me.”
I squeeze his hand. “Go. It’s best if we get back to our routines and put it all behind us.”
“I’m so glad to hear you say that.” He gives me a quick peck. “Don’t wait up for me—it sounds like it could be a long night.”
At least that’ll give me the time I need to scour social media for my lookalike. If Peter’s here, he’s going to try to distract me. I can tell by the look in his eyes he thinks I’m obsessing.
In this case, I think being obsessed is a good thing.
I’m not going to find that woman otherwise.
ChapterNineteen
My alarm is more grating than normal. I hardly slept, and now it feels like I was hit by a truck. I fumble to find the snooze button. Usually, I get up right away, but that isn’t happening this morning.
Not a chance.
Although I also don’t fall back asleep. My mind races. I spent half the night trying to figure out what my lookalike wants and how she learned so much about my life.
How she managed to get inside my house.
The tank top could be explained away by her finding the same one, although given how old it is, it wouldn’t have been easy. But it wouldn’t have been impossible, either. I’ve seen the same shirt at consignment stores before. In fact, it took a lot of self-control not to buy them in case something happened to mine.
A duplicate shirt didn’t explain finding mine in the hamper. Twice.
It blows my mind that she came into the house, took my tank, wore it while impersonating me, then returned it. I’m surprised she didn’t wash it to keep me from finding out.
Except she wanted me to know. That’s the only explanation for everything that’s happened.
Everything except her motive. Did I do something to her to make her want to seek vengeance? Or is this just a sick game? Maybe she found me online and thought this would be a fun way to pass time.
As unlikely as it sounds, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Other people may question my memory—or even my sanity—but I know I can trust my mind. If only I’d still been with Megan at the restaurant when that woman abducted my kids from preschool, I could prove the truth to everyone. At least I know for a fact I wasnotat the cupcake place or the salon. Finding proof is going to be the difficult part.
My alarm blares again, and I force myself out of bed.
Peter is sound asleep next to me and doesn’t budge as I climb out of bed. He probably only got home a few hours ago.
I take a quick shower then head downstairs to make breakfast for the kids. I’m so off kilter, it takes me a minute to figure out if Dakota is staying with us today. But the calendar shows she returns Thursday. Right. I remember now.
This morning’s meal is a simple oatmeal and toast. It’s all I can handle after sleeping so poorly.
Nadia gives me a big hug when she gets downstairs. She isn’t usually so affectionate in the mornings, but since I told her about what happened with the littles yesterday, she’s been extra sweet. Thankfully, she doesn’t complain about the food.
When Sophie and Owen race down the stairs, my stomach knots. They’re already dressed for school.
I’m not taking them. Not after what happened yesterday. But I don’t know how to tell them.
Sophie talks nonstop about an art project her class is working on. It’s supposed to take all week to finish because it’s so complicated.
Owen tells us his best friend returns today from an extended weekend with his grandparents.
Guilt slams me hard.
They’re going to be so disappointed about not going. I’m not sure what I can do to make it up to them. Maybe nothing. How can I compete with a best friend and a week-long art project?
Maybe I should just let them go. We’ve already paid for the rest of the month.
No. That’s not happening. Not after the way they treated me yesterday. That was not only rude, but humiliating.
