Page 210 of One Big Little Secret

But Evelyn poisoned Arlo right under our noses without anyone noticing. A horrible feat I’m still not sure how she managed.

If she’s capable of poisoning a kid so discreetly, what else could she do?

“He’ll be okay. Trust me.” Archer nods at Dexter for support. “Last year, this guy took on a whole crime syndicate. We handled ourselves well, even that knucklehead little brother of ours.”

Dexter looks over, smirking.

“You make it sound more impressive than it was. I fought a guy with a broken bottle. I wasn’t dodging bullets or anything,” he tells us.

I’m not sure that helps.

My eyes rake over him, sizing him up. He’s slightly bigger than Patton or maybe it’s just the age difference. Everyone in Kansas City heard about the case, the monster of a man Dexter fought.

“He can handle her,” Dexter promises. “Don’t lose any sleep over him, Salem.”

“Yeah. He’s not as stupid as he looks—sometimes. She won’t trip him up,” Archer agrees, though I think he shares my worries about poison. “He’ll be on her with the cops right behind him, I’m sure. Pat has more common sense than you’d think in these situations.”

I really, really hope he’s right.

For now, there’s nothing I can do but agree.

Two more dayspass by in a haze of anxiety.

Still no word from Patton, and I’m afraid to reach out to him again. I’ve already left a half a dozen voicemails apologizing for what I said and how we left things in chaos.

Not quite taking back my fears, but almost.

If he just came home, if he’dtalkto me, then I could tell him exactly what the situation is, and—well, if he’ll listen, I could explain how I’ve come to my senses.

There are better ways to deal with love than running away to the Ozarks and starting a half-baked boat business.

And I try to will myself into believing I have a shred of courage as the day comes for the meeting I’ve dreaded.

I chose to meet my parents at the Sugar Bowl, Juniper’s bakery, thinking it can’t hurt to have a friendly face around. She doesn’t know the whole story, but I know her well enough to trust that she’ll step in and help if she needs to.

Not that I think my parents will do anything terrible in public.

I just can’t predict what theywilldo.

At three o’clock sharp, they walk through the doors.

Dad looks older than I remember. His hair has receded another inch or two and he’s wearing his pointy grey shot beard longer these days.

Weirdly, my mother looks like she hasn’t aged a day in five years. I’m sure she’s kept time at bay ruthlessly with scalpels and weekly salon treatments, though her hair sports a shiny new shade of black. It makes her skin look oddly colorless by contrast, despite the slight blush.

I suddenly wish I’d worn something smarter. Not this blue blouse tucked into a grey pinstripe skirt. It feels too formal, like what I’d wear to work, but notchic.

A shame it’s too late to ask Delly for advice.

Mom throws her arms open with an exaggerated grin the second she sees me.

“Salem,” she whispers, her voice choked. “Lemmy, sweetheart, it’s so good to see you!”

Dazed, I stand up and allow her to kiss both cheeks. She’s behaving like she’s missed me all these years. Like we don’t both know she never tried to contact me once.

Anger flares in my gut. I lean back from her sickly strong perfume.

“You made it,” I say neutrally.