Page 190 of Wicked Dreams

Right?

I spot Caleb’s car in the Bryans’ driveway as we come up the street.

“Keep going,” I tell Eli. Shock and dread twist through me.

He glances back at me. “What?—”

“Keep. Going.” I can’t breathe. I automatically expect the worst. I shouldn’t, because it’sCaleb. The man who reminded me that we were fake married, who reminded me that I loved him as a kid. Who…

Riley twists around. “Is that?—”

“Yes. Eli, drop me at the corner.”

He groans. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing.”

He pulls over, and I grab my bag, hopping out before they can advise against it.

“Keep your phone close, Riley. I’ll call you later.”

She nods, and I slam the door.

Eli drives away.

I cut through the neighbor’s lawn and creep into the Bryans’ backyard. I slip into the mudroom, holding the screen door to keep it from slamming. There’s another door that leads into the kitchen, but I’m betting Caleb might be in there.

Sure enough, as soon as I press my ear to the door, I can hear what they’re saying.

“We appreciate you trying to be candid, Caleb,” Robert says. “But you haven’t quite told uswhyyou’re trying to warn us about Margo.”

“And forgive us for thinking so, but we thought you enjoyed Margo’s company,” Lenora adds.

Warn them about me?

My heart hammers.

“I’m sorry for not being direct,” Caleb says. “It’s just that… I thought her and I were it. And then earlier today, she put out a private video trying to destroy my credibility.”

I cover my mouth with both hands. He thinksIleaked that video? Like the picture, I’m sure he’s going to be lauded for it.

No—he said he had to go on an errand. He didn’t seem upset at all.

“So, this is revenge?” Robert asks.

“Not at all. Honestly, I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. This just proves that she isn’t the girl I thought she was.”

Silence.

“Your daughter…” Caleb pauses. “She died in a car accident, right?”

“That’s right,” Robert answers. His voice is faint.

“My aunt liked to gossip,” Caleb says. “She said the car accident was caused by a drug overdose.”

“We’ve never hid that fact,” Lenora says. “Our daughter was troubled. I’d like to think we can spot the warning signs. That’s why we foster teenagers, because sometimes they just need more guidance?—”

“Was it cocaine?”

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