Page 183 of Wicked Dreams

“I… guess.” I don’t like where this is going.

“Remember when we lived together, and you found my stash?”

Of newspaper clippings. Yes.

Her parents died in a car accident, and for a while, she was obsessed with other kids who lost parents in accidents. If there was a newspaper write-up about it, you could bet that Claire had it cut out and pressed into a notebook.

“Some of them had pictures, you know? Like of the family mourning or raising awareness.

“Okay, and?”

“Your foster mom seemed familiar.”

I don’t love where this is going. “You said the same freaking thing about Caleb,” I point out.

“He still is familiar,” she mutters. “But that’s not what we’re talking about right now. The point is: I figured out your foster mom!”

I squint at her. It takes a moment to dislodge her grip, and I untie my mask. I take it off. “You recognize her from… your newspaper clippings?”

“Yes! Her daughter died in a crash like, five years ago. There was a picture of her and her husband at the grave site.”

“That’s awful, Claire. And, for the record, I knew she died.”

“No, but look.” She pulls a paper from her pocket, shoving it into my hand. “Just read that!”

“Margo?”

I spin around, crumpling the paper in my fist. Caleb walks toward us, gaze bouncing back and forth between Claire and me.

“Are you a friend of Margo’s?” he asks Claire.

I glance back at her, but her mask is back in place. She takes a few steps backward, shrugging. “See ya later, Wolfe.”

Weird. She’s always been kind of skittish around people, though.

“You good?” he asks.

“Yep.” My dress has small pockets. They aren’t big enough for a phone, but definitely for a scrap of paper. I tuck it in and retie my mask.

Caleb hands me a cup of punch, and we go join Riley and Eli.

Claire’s warning is swept away in the excitement of the rest of the evening. Eventually, Caleb’s hand on my back is too much for me to bear. The room is slowly emptying out, and I find myself leaning on him more and more.

We’ve done our part. We showed up, we danced, we were seen and admired. The last two things were just what I figured Caleb wanted. We talked with Theo and Liam, who both opted to come alone.

At one point, Theo stole Amelie away from Ian and whisked her around in a proper waltz. The fact that they both knew more than how to just sway was impressive. I didn’t figure him as the type to fall for her charm, though.

Caleb chuckled at my expression. “He’s using Amelie.”

“For what?”

He just shakes his head.

Now, I lean against Caleb and try to telepathically tell him that it’s okay to leave.

“Tired?” he asks.

I nod, emphatic.

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