Page 191 of Wicked Dreams

I wish I could see the expression on Caleb’s face. If he regrets what he’s saying. But I’d bet his face is the picture of innocence, because that’s who he is: a good fucking liar.

“The fact of the matter is… your daughter’s death is Margo’s fault.”

My heart stops.

“What? How?” Lenora demands. “Margo would’ve beentwelvewhen Isabella died?—”

“Margo was the cause of her mother’s drug use,” Caleb says.

Each word is a dagger in my heart.

“And because of her parents’ split, Amber Wolfe had no choice but to resort to selling drugs. Cocaine, specifically. She sold it to anyone who had cash. College kids, high schoolers. She preyed on innocent lives because Margo?—”

Lenora wails.

It’s a haunting sound. Chills break out across my body, and I really,reallywish that I couldn’t hear it. I’d love nothing more than to scrub that noise from my brain.

“Margo’s mom was responsible for your daughter’s death, but everything circles back to your foster daughter,” Caleb finishes. “I thought you’d want to know who was sleeping in your home every night.”

I’ve heard enough.

I lift my bag and creep back outside. Hidden on the side of the porch, I pull out the newspaper clipping Claire had shoved at me.

The headline reads: Isabella Bryan in Fatal Car Crash

Late Saturday night, Isabella Bryan of Rose Hill, New York, was found in her flipped vehicle. Firefighters and EMTs pulled her out and brought her to a local hospital, but she was dead on arrival. Isabella has had problems with substance abuse, and doctors confirm that this was the cause of her accident. Her parents, Lenora and Robert Bryan, request privacy during this difficult time.

That’s it.

A paragraph and a picture of the three of them. Farther down, there’s one of just Robert and Lenora in a cemetery. My mother was the one who put them there.

They’re never going to want me back now, because what Caleb said has to be true: my mom sold drugs to a teenager, and that teenagerdied. What’re the odds that I’m placed with their family?

It’s a sucker punch straight to my gut.

I hoist my bag higher and run through the neighbor’s backyard. I don’t have anywhere to go, but I sure as hell don’t want them to find me snooping around their yard.

Not after that.

I get to the corner and grab my phone. It’s the first time I’ve looked at it since before the dance.

Riley was right: it’s blowing up. There are too many numbers texting me crude things.

I’m too far into shock to consider crying.

Caleb just…

My heart isn’t working right.

I sink to my knees at the curb as his words replay.

It hurts like a knife burrowing into my chest. I can’t stop it. I can’t fight him.

Let’s play a game, he told me.First to give in loses.

I lost, Caleb. My heart folded first. I thought it might be the kiss, but that… that was just the beginning.

I find a text from Claire from the middle of the night.

---