Page 8 of No More Words

Dwight did, and after he hugged her goodbye and promised to call later, she flipped open her phone and speed-dialed Ethan.

“How could you?” she accused. “And with Lily!”

“What are you talking about?”

“She’s pregnant.” She cried. Tears, fat like raindrops during a thunderstorm, fell. Despair swirled like the storm’s violent winds. Here she thought Ethan got her. She’d felt happy with him when she didn’t think she could after losing summers at the lake and Blaze. Could she have been any more foolish? She never should have opened up to him, or anyone given what Lily had done to her.

“And you think I what ... slept with your sister?” He sounded appalled.

“Not think. Know. My dad just told me.”

“And you believe him.”

“Are you saying it’s not true?” As if there was the remote possibility her dad lied to her. He loved her, which made her wonder if Ethan ever did.

He remained quiet for a long moment.

“Ethan,” she sobbed. “Tell me it’s not true.”

“Why? You’d never believe me over him.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“No.”

“Liar,” she cried, beyond reasoning.

“See what I mean?”

“I hate you,” she yelled into the phone. Too many people she loved had betrayed her. First Lucas, then Blaze, now Ethan. She should have known he’d eventually break her heart. But Lily? She never saw that one coming.

“Olivia,” Ethan said, sounding defeated.

“Don’t call again. I don’t want to speak with you. I don’t ever want to see you again. Goodbye, Ethan.”

Years later she’d think back on their conversation and realize she should have waited to call him, given herself the chance to calm down after Dwight left. She also should have waited before she called Lily. Buther thumb skimmed across the keypad and pressed the number combo for home. Charlotte answered.

“Mom,” she said, her voice watered down with tears.

“Olivia, darling. Did your father tell you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. This must be awful for you. It’s difficult for everyone. We need to decide what to do before word gets out. Your father is mortified.”

“Where is she?”

“Lily? She’s resting.”

“I want to talk to her.” She wanted to grab her sister’s shoulders and shake her until her neck snapped. What was Lily thinking? If she was upset at Olivia, there were other ways to get her revenge. Spray-paint her bedroom. Tear up her magazine collection like she’d done before.

“I’ll let her know you called when she gets up. Be gentle with her. She just learned we aren’t letting her keep the baby.” Charlotte and Dwight couldn’t legally force Lily to give up her baby. But if she wanted their financial and emotional support, she wouldn’t have a choice.

Olivia ended the call and waited. And waited. Lily never called back. She didn’t text either. When the call from her parents’ landline finally came through, it was Charlotte. Lily had run away. Charlotte and Dwight had just returned from the police station after filing a missing persons report. Ethan was brought in for questioning, but he didn’t have any leads either. The swim team was posting flyers. Everyone was looking for their little girl.

Olivia wanted to feel sad. She expected to feel worried, too. Lily was sixteen, pregnant, and alone. But she couldn’t manifest any sympathy. Her tears were spent. She’d buttoned up her heart.

Less than a year later, she received her first annual letter from Lily. Inside the note card was a photo: Josh, his newborn face blotchy and puffy eyelids closed, swaddled in an infant blanket.

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