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“Oh, that’s right.” Chelsea stared at her belittlingly. “They sent you off to the loony bin, didn’t they?”

Megan met her gaze directly without shying away. “I spent several months in a mental care hospital.”

Chelsea’s lashes lowered to half-mast. “Call it whatever you want.” Disparagingly, she clicked her tongue as she began typing on the computer.

Her expression became grimmer when Chelsea must have seen she had paid for her stay in full. She opened the drawer and took out an envelope and a plastic card before inserting the card inside of a tiny machine attached to her computer. After pulling the card out, she slipped it into the envelope to hand it to her.

Megan reached for the card but raised her eyes when Chelsea didn’t release it from her grip.

“You’re in 312. I hope you’re not planning on freaking out in your hotel room. You’ll be responsible for any damage I find. If I hear any commotion,” she warned, “I’m calling the sheriff so fast your head will spin.”

Taking the card when Chelsea finally released it, she leaned against the counter, as if settling in for a long chat. “You know, I didn’t like you in high school.”

Chelsea made a face, which seemed to say she was in complete agreement.

“We don’t have to be friends now, either.”

“You wish,” Chelsea snapped sarcastically.

“No, actually, I don’t. I saw how you treated your best friends. You bullied them until they had to get your permission on what color they wore each day, or what they brought to eat for lunch. I bet, after you graduated, not a one of them gave you the time of day anymore.”

Chelsea’s face turned ugly. “Then you’d be wrong. We still talk.”

“Maybe so, but you’re the one calling them, not the other way around.”

Straightening from the counter, Megan walked away, not caring about the hatred Chelsea made no effort to hide.

Before getting back in her car, she checked the room number of the door closest to where she was standing. Gauging where her room should be from where she was, Megan got back in her car and circled the parking lot, studying the numbers and eventually finding hers. The parking lot only had two other cars in it.

Chelsea had given her the room directly behind the office. Wryly twisting her lips as she wheeled her suitcase toward the room, Megan gave it one day before Chelsea called the sheriff on her.

In high school, she had earned a reputation for going after anyone who looked at her the wrong way, much less said something she didn’t like. Megan had gotten on her bad side a couple of times and had paid the price each time.

She locked the door behind her and heaved the suitcase onto the bed. The sound of the headboard hitting the wall made her wince. There went getting something to eat. Instead of unpacking, she sat down on the bed to wait. It didn’t take long.

Megan saw the blue lights through the curtains. Standing, she went to open the door before she heard the knock.

She recognized the police officer getting out of his patrol car, and she didn’t miss the surprise on his face that she had beat him to the door.

“Hello, Knox, come on in.”

Four

Megan heard the bell ring over her head as she walked inside the diner. The diner had been a popular place to hang out or grab a quick meal when she lived there. Waitresses came and went regularly, which was why she was there. During the last week, she had applied for several jobs, with no success. Waitressing was the last thing she wanted to do, considering her track record, but she was running out of options.

The restaurant was completely empty for the time being. Megan didn’t think she could ever remember the diner being completely empty.

As she came inside, a heavyset man appeared from the back of the restaurant. His hostile expression made her want to turn tail and run. Why had no one ever told her desperation gave you courage?

Walking forward under his scrutiny, she took the first old-fashioned pivoting seat at the counter.

The man lumbered across to where she was sitting to slam a menu down in front of her. Megan didn’t look at the menu, afraid it would set off her rumbling stomach again.

“Hello.”

“What do you want?”

Taken aback at how rude he was being, her mind drew a blank as to what to say.

“I don’t have all damn day.”

Mentally shaking herself, she forced a pleasant smile. “I’d like to apply for a job.”

His beady eyes went half-mast. “Look around you; does it look like I need any fucking help?”

Megan didn’t bother to look around; she had seen how empty the restaurant was when she entered. And she was too hungry to take no for an answer immediately, especially since she didn’t recognize him.

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