Page 1 of The Secret

Prologue

We all know Mondays have a bad rep as the worst day of the week, but Tuesday, Tuesday sneaks up on you. Tuesday is the day that the serious shit goes down because you're lulled into the false sense of security that the worst day of the week is over.

Because you're not ready for it.

Because you're not looking over your shoulder.

Case in point…

Tuesday was the day Penn found out he'd flunked his mid-terms.

Tuesday was the day Rafe got dumped by Bronwyn Chambers, his high-school sweetheart, the girl he lost his virginity to and the one who decided in the first week of college she’d rather be with a future pro-athlete than a future lawyer. He cried for a while after that one.

And Tuesday was the day Murray missed out on the finals of the Ivy League Swimming Conference, the one he was about to sweep gold on, because of a freak ice storm that caused him to slip outside the pool house and break his leg.

So they did the only sensible thing they could do; they took a stance, and The Tuesday Club was born with three rules - no girls, no drama, no injuries. Tuesday was the new boys’ night in at the Beacon Hill brownstone.

And it continues to this day. With the same three members.

Who aren’t paying close enough attention…

1

Murray

There’s a pivotal moment in everyone’s life that fundamentally changes who they are. Everyone has it. You don’t know when it’ll happen, but you know when it does. And in order to survive it, in order to get through the lung-crushing, heart-stopping, neck-breaking speed at which it occurs, you need your friends with you.

Let me introduce myself. My name is Murray Williams, and the two bozos standing behind me arguing about the Yankees new relief pitcher are my best friends in the world, Rafe Latham and Penn Shepherd. Friends for over a decade, we met on the first day of college where the three of us had been assigned the same dorm, and I was the Brit who'd flown in to have his higher education experience in the good ol’ U.S. of A. We sized each other up for thirty seconds, then cracked open some beers and bonded for life.

I know what you’re thinking… Why’s he telling me this? Who cares? Why should I give a shit?

And I'm almost in agreement. Except for one thing. Because that pivotal moment I mentioned?

I was about to have mine.

* * *

The doors to the elevator opened and Barclay let out a loud single bark, running forward down the long corridor, causing Rafe and Penn to momentarily pause their heated discussion about Ace Watson.

That was odd. My black Labrador wasn’t known for barking much.

“Huh.”

Rafe resumed his bouncing of the basketball he’d carried back from our weekly game as we followed Barclay in the direction he ran, toward my apartment door at the very end, where he was sniffing a large package. Or box.

I squinted down the darkened hallway.

Was that a baby car seat?

Barclay stopped sniffing and was now whining softly, lying down as we reached him.

Turns out, the most obvious question to ask isn’t always the one asked. I probably would have wanted to know why there was a baby in a car seat outside my apartment, but actually, Penn was more on the money.

“Everyone else is seeing a baby, right?”

Rafe and I both looked at him before we all peered back down at the tiny infant sleeping soundly, wrapped in a blanket and wearing a little pink striped hat.

“Yes. I am.”

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