Page 58 of Wicked Promises

But this is just too high of a coincidence.

“All the way in Beacon?” she questions.

I don’t like the way she’s watching us. She thinks we’re up to something. Weareup to something, but I don’t like that she’s automatically suspicious.

“We were in the neighborhood. And I guess we were just feeling… lucky.”

She narrows her eyes. “All right.”

I sit across from Riley once she goes.

“What are we doing?” I lean across the table. “Are you crazy?”

“She’s the one who left him with his uncle, right?” Riley tracks Lydia’s movements across the diner.

She hasn’t forgotten our rescue attempt from Caleb’s uncle’s house. Neither have I. To know she willingly left her son—herten-year-oldson—with the monster is more than I can stomach.

Something crashes, and we both jump.

I twist around and catch a flash of dark hair through the window into the kitchen.

When Lydia doesn’t reappear, I glance at Riley. “Should we check on her?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure what we’re even doing here. I was hoping she’d give us some clue. So we should stay longer, right? Just eavesdrop.”

Right. That’s what we do.

Meanwhile, Lydia’s probably on the phone with therealUnknown, and they’re going to stage another attack. Maybe they’d hurt Riley this time.

My skin is too tight.

There’s another crash, and then the sound of voices.

“This is weird.” My skin crawls. “I have a bad feeling about this…”

Riley leans toward me. “You said your dad didn’t kill her husband. What if she had something to do with it?”

“Then… we’re alone with a dangerous woman.”

“No!” Lydia yells from the back room.

We both shoot to our feet, grabbing our stuff.

Riley yanks me toward the entrance. “Move, Margo. Come on.”

The kitchen door flies open, and my mouth drops.

I stop.

Stop breathing.

Stop thinking.

Because my mother is finally in front of me.

It’s almost weird how she looks exactly the same and completely different at the same time. She glares at me—familiar. Her hair is pulled back, mostly covered by a black bandana—familiar. Chef’s coat—familiar. Wrinkles across her tanned face—new. Thin. Angry.

I shudder.