Page 115 of Wicked Promises
She’s always been boy obsessed, but she can’t be obsessed withthisone. I shift slightly, blocking her view of him.
She blinks, like she was dozing, and grins at me. “Well, we were out for ice cream and decided to check in on you. Hanna got an A on her final project in math.” She makes a show of checking out the room. “I’d say I like what you’ve done with the place, but…”
“It was time for a change,” I lie. “This is just the beginning stages of me making this place feel like home.”
“Oh?” She ventures farther in, touching a little clay pot Hanna had made me last year. It holds a few beads, an earring—lost things.
Forgotten things.
So they wouldn’t be misplaced anymore.
I almost cried when she gave it to me, because I know she meantme. I was the lost and forgotten thing. And so was she. And so was Claire.
We’re not lost anymore, I almost say. It’s on the tip of my tongue.
“I’m thinking of painting it blue.”
She picks up the canvas. “You’ve been working on this forever. Are you going to finish it?”
“You should paint the walls orange!” Hanna says, throwing herself onto the bed next to Caleb. She scoots all the way back, until she can lean against the wall. “Orange is my favorite color.”
“Silly girl,” Claire murmurs. “An orange room would practically glow when the sun rose.”
“Exactly.”
“Is your room decorated in orange?” I ask Hanna.
“Yeah, orange and pink. The best combination!” She kicks her feet. “It’s nice when the rest of the house is creepy.”
“It’s not creepy,” Claire says. “It’s just old and big.”
I ruffle Hanna’s hair. “I’m sure it’ll feel like home soon enough.”
“Do you go back to school before the holiday?” Claire asks me. “If I were you, I’d push for all the time off I could.”
Caleb tilts his head. “Because of the accident?”
She ignores him. “Did you know we found out about yourkidnappingon the news? The freaking news, Margo!”
I wince. “I’m sorry. It was…”
“Traumatic,” Caleb finishes. “And she shouldn’t have to tell everyone about it.”
She flinches, then rushes to my side. “I’m sorry.” She picks up my hands and squeezes. “God, I didn’t mean it like that. It was just surprise… and worry.”
“You could’ve called,” Caleb said. “Instead of…” Barging in here and interrupting our kiss? That’s where it sounds like he’s taking this conversation.
I shake my head. “I should’ve reached out.”
Claire pats my cheek. “I forgive you.”
Caleb stands and moves toward us. His gait is slow, lazy almost. It’s just a few feet to cross the room. But somehow, he makes it feel predatory.
His gaze locks on Claire. He circles around her, then stops beside me.
“Let me get this straight. You forgive Margo, who was in a car accident and then abducted, and in the hospital for three days, for not calling you?”
Claire’s face turns red. She presses her lips together, staring up at him.