Page 82 of When Lies Unfold

Her sugary-sweet voice makes my skin crawl. “Alma! I’ve missed you!” She tugs the girl in for the briefest, most pathetic excuse for a hug, her eyes spearing me with daggers before refocusing on Alma. “Look! I brought you another teddy bear!”

She offers it to Alma, who defiantly ignores it. Alma squeezes my hand tighter and plasters herself against my side, shying away from the woman. We remain entrenched in awkward silence before the woman’s mouth tightens. “I’ll just set it on your bed.”

Once she does so, her attention settles on me, her perfect brows rising. “And who are you?”

“The nanny.”

Her eyes narrow at my curt, monotone response. “The nanny…” She surveys me from head to toe. “Hm.”

She must not classify me as a threat, because her attention returns to Alma. Her voice reverts to a nauseatingly saccharine quality. “It was lovely to see you again, Alma.”

Alma stands in resolute silence as the woman strides from the room, her heels clicking like a ticking time bomb.

Once the sound of the woman’s retreat drifts farther away, Alma rushes to close her bedroom door.

Leading me to her bed, she grabs the teddy bear the woman left and hurls it clear across the room. It lands softly in the far corner.

“So, that’s the woman who brings you all those teddy bears you deface?”

With a huff, Alma climbs into bed. “That’s Keyna.”

That’s the infamous Keyna? Interesting.

I pull the sheet over Alma, press a kiss to her forehead, and wish her sweet dreams.

When I straighten, she smiles so sweetly that my chest tightens. “Have fun at dinner with my dad.” She gives my hand a quick squeeze. “Maybe he’ll ask you to marry him so you can be my mom.”

My eyes go wide. “Uh, I don’t…think that’s going to happen, sweetheart.”

“It will.” She flashes me a confident grin. “He just needs to make you fall in love with him.”

I successfully stifle my snort-laugh at the ridiculous notion to avoid hurting her feelings. “We’ll see. Good night, Alma.”

“’Night, Lola.”

Once I leave her room, I pad down the hall to my bedroom. The moment I cross the threshold, I realize someone’s invaded my privacy.

The proof lies on my bed.

I lean back against my closed door while my attention remains riveted to the gorgeous dress draped across my bed and the open shoebox beside it.

I place a hand over my stomach, attempting to assuage the sensation that a swarm of butterflies has taken up residence.

In a deep shade of blue that matches my butterfly tattoos, the dress is made of satiny material I have no doubt will fit me perfectly.

Hesitance blankets my movements as I edge closer to the bed, my fingers tingling with the urge to touch the fabric. A part of me wants to resist, knowing there’s a good chance he’s watching, but I give in.

The instant my fingertips skim over the smooth, satiny fabric, a tiny moan bubbles up my throat. I know without even looking that there’s an expensive label sewn on the inside.

A flash of memory flickers through my mind of the last time I wore something gorgeous in this same color. Although a designer label hadn’t been affixed to the inside, it was painstakingly hand-sewn for me.

That was the last night I truly lived before hell descended upon me.

36

LOLA

My hands cradle my midsection, the memories causing my stomach to lurch sickly. I inhale deeply, then exhale, willing my nerves to settle, and force my mind back to the present.

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