“Don’t worry about it.” Charlotte sat back down and watched her leave. She was finishing up her latte when she spotted her mom’s cousin, Angie, across the street. Angie worked as a chef at the Herring Cove Inn with her mother and often bragged about how much she loved the single life. Charlotte always wondered if she was trying too hard to hide her real feelings.
Before she could dwell on it further, Angie crossed the street, spotted her, and ran over. Angie looped her arm through Charlotte’s, and the two of them walked to Decadent Treats with the warmth of the sun on their backs.
Angie kept up a steady stream of conversation, which reminded Charlotte of all the things she’d have to give up because of the pregnancy.
All semblance of her old life was going to drift away until it vanished altogether.
But Charlotte wanted to believe it was all going to be worth seeing the smile on Addison’s face and knowing she had put it there.
It had to be.
Chapter Seventeen
“How’s that virus going? You any closer to figuring out what it is?”
Libby pushed her chair back with a screech and stood up. “No, but it doesn’t seem too serious.”
Maggie placed a hand on her shoulders. “If you need anything, you let me know, okay?”
Libby nodded but wouldn’t meet her gaze.
While she felt bad about lying to Maggie about the real reason she’d taken a few days off, she knew Maggie wouldn’t understand. With three kids who rarely gave her any trouble and a loving husband who helped pick up the slack, she led a completely different life than Libby’s.
Unfortunately, where Annie was concerned, Libby was all she had.
As much as she hated spying on her and rooting through her things, Libby had to keep her safe. With no more patients for the day and a lighter-than-usual load at the clinic, the doctors had dismissed them. Libby kept sneaking glances at Annie’s red dot on her phone, relieved to find that she was still at school. By the time Libby arrived, a few of the students began trickling out.
Annie was one of the last to leave, glancing around her as she did.
Libby ducked behind the same tree and watched her.
She followed Annie when she went into the library and stayed there for an hour. Then she poked her head out in time to see Annie meet up with the same guy. A chill raced up Libby’s spine when the hug lasted longer, and Annie buried her face in the crook of his neck. Every inch of Libby screamed and rebelled against her standing there, letting it happen, but she didn’t have a choice.
Confronting Annie now was only going to lead to a disaster, like Annie running away and straight into the boy’s arms.
Libby couldn’t let that happen.
She squared her shoulders, ignored the knots in her stomach, and waited till Annie left to start following the boy. He turned onto Shore Street, taking long, brusque strides as he did. Libby followed at a safe space; phone pressed to her chest the entire time. Sweat broke out across her neck and her forehead when he stopped on the front porch of the abandoned warehouse on Linden Road. When he glanced over his shoulder, Libby spun around and pretended to raise her voice and hold the phone over her head, muttering loudly about a bad signal for anyone to hear.
A heartbeat later, she glanced over her shoulder, and he was gone.
Her heart was twisting inside of her chest as she crept forward and pressed herself against the walls of the warehouse, which smelled damp and was in desperate need of repair. When she heard voices spill out of a broken window, she froze and broke out into a cold sweat.
For the longest time, nothing happened.
Libby’s heart was pounding as she wondered what would happen if they found her.
Were those thugs going to silence her?
Or were they going to give her a warning because she was Annie’s mother?
Without her in the picture, Annie would be a lot easier to manipulate.
The thought sent another wave of panic washing over her, which made Libby clench her hands into fists. She counted backward from ten, unclenched her hands, and stepped away from the wall. Libby crouched low and crept forward until she stood underneath the window. Slowly, she lifted her head, and her eyes took a while to adjust to the darkness.
She expected a space with high ceilings and spider webs, but there were storage boxes everywhere, blocking her view.
Voices rose and fell, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. In the distance, a dog barked, and tires screeched against the asphalt. Libby tilted her head to the side and tried to listen past the pounding of her heart. Then, she heard a voice behind her, followed by the ringing of a bike bell.
