Page 206 of One Big Little Secret

Only, I turn and retrace a few steps.

Gingerly, I rest my hands on her shoulders, kissing her on top of the head. She only stirs slightly without waking.

“Hold on, Lady Bug. I’m going to make sure no one ever tries to hurt Arlo again, and then I’ll come home and we’ll sort this out.”

25

DOWN TO THE WIRE (SALEM)

Incredibly, it only takes a couple days for Arlo to recover.

Two days of sitting by his side at the hospital in that endless bustle of muffled noises and claustrophobic disinfectant before he turns back into his normal chatty little self with puppy energy.

Two days of running through every single thing I could’ve done differently.

Two days of agonizing over Patton.

Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. The way he looked at me when I told him about my plans to strike out on my own—a plan that isn’t even a plan. A plan that I’ve slowly been researching as a parachute escape from all things Rory related.

A just-in-case backup I have little confidence I can actually make a reality.

God.

I didn’t think it was possible to screw up this bad, but I’ve done it. Maybe it’s not rotten luck that’s following me after all.

More like karma grabbing me by the throat and throwing me through the wall.

Delly Rory takes us back to her house from the hospital the day Arlo gets discharged.

“I insist, dear,” she says as I strap Arlo’s kid seat into her expensive white SUV. “I know how difficult these past few days have been for you.”

“Thank you so much for the food.” I stifle a yawn. “I don’t know how I’d have gotten by without it.”

“You’re welcome. And you should thank Junie, too. She’s the one who’s been cooking up a storm in our kitchen with a little help from her lovely grandmother.”

I drag my fingers over my eyes.

Junie. Another near-stranger whose kindness I don’t deserve. Clearly, none of them know about my fallout with Patton, even if I haven’t heard from him in days.

“I appreciate it. More than you’ll ever know,” I say as I climb into her passenger seat.

She tells stories about Patton as a kid all the way home, thinking they’ll entertain me.

And yeah, I’m amused when she tells me about the time four-year-old Patton ate crayons after Dexter convinced him they were candy. But she doesn’t know story time slowly carves more chunks out of my heart.

There’s something different about Delly today that makes me wonder.

She’s dimmer, more subdued.

Evelyn’s betrayal, probably. It’s wilting her like a bright flower under a merciless heat lamp. The warm, easy smile that’s been there ever since we met seems more forced now, a mask she wears for appearances only.

It makes my heart hurt.

This lovely woman shouldn’t have to fade like this.

Not when she glitters like Kansas City itself on a long summer night.

“I’ve got a spare room you can use,” she says, changing subjects so fast I almost get whiplash. “I made them up for you. You don’t have to stay, of course. But Arlo can, if you’d like, while your parents are visiting.”

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