From the look on his face, I don’t think he would like to find out. He jumps out of his seat, backing away from me. “You’re a psychopath,” he says.
I just shrug and smile at him.
He stumbles away from the table, practically tripping over his own feet in his eagerness to get away from me. I don’t think he’s going to be bothering me again. I’d like to think he isn’t going to be botheringanyother girls again.
I pick up my book to continue reading, but before I do, I glance out the window next to me. It’s gloomy enough outside that I can almost see my reflection in the glass. It’s funny, because I always thought I was practically identical to my dad with my dark hair and eyes. But now that I’m looking at myself in that blurry window, I realize as I’ve gotten older, my facial features have become a lot more similar to my mom’s. I never noticed it until this very moment.
I look just like her. How funny.
EPILOGUE
MARTHA
I am staying at a motel far away from Long Island.
Jed hasn’t come looking for me since I left, so I am starting to finally feel safe. He told me that if I ever tried to leave him, he would hunt me down and rip off my scalp, but he hasn’t found me yet. I have that gun Enzo gave me though, in case he does show up. It makes me feel secure.
I worry about money though. Jed took all my paychecks, so all I’ve got left is what I managed to stash away, plus a small amount Enzo was able to give me. I can try to work under the table, although it’s hard to find jobs like that in a new place without word-of-mouth referrals. It will take time, but I’m a hard worker and willing to prove myself. I’ve been waiting a long time for my freedom from that monster.
And I knew that when the Accardis moved in next door, it would be my ticket out.
Many years ago, back when I was young and full of hope about my life, I worked for a wealthy family. They had a teenage son who was the sort of boy who believed anything he wanted should be his. I disliked him intensely, especially after I saw a girl dashing out of his bedroom in tears. He laughed aboutit later, when I was changing the sheets on his bed that were spotted with her blood.
Three months after that, he was dead.
The first time I heard about Wilhelmina Calloway, the girl who would become Millie Accardi, was when she was being charged with the murder of the son of my employers. I had no doubt that he deserved the justice Millie doled out, but the jury didn’t see it that way. She went to prison for his murder.
I recognized Millie when she came to look at the house at 14 Locust Street with her handsome husband. She was much older, of course, yet I knew her instantly. There was something about her that was hard to forget. Something in her eyes. A quick internet search proved she was who I thought she was.
At that moment, I knew Millie would be the only one who could help me escape from Jed. I just needed her to move into that house.
But the houses in this neighborhood always went for ridiculous amounts of money. It was clear the Accardis wouldn’t be able to afford a bidding war. So I helped them. I made conversation with prospective buyers, mentioning the leaky roof or the mold in the attic. One by one, they dropped out, and the Accardis bought the house for a bargain, just as I had hoped they would.
I wanted so badly to tell Millie everything the moment she moved in. I was always looking out the window, watching her house, waiting for a time when I could get her alone and spill my guts. I was sure she would help me. But when I started working for her, I could never find the right time. I froze whenever I tried.
After all that, it wasn’t Millie who ended up helping me. It was her husband, Enzo. He was so kind to me. He offered me more than he could afford, and he wouldn’t allow me to say no.
Even so, I feared my stash of money wouldn’t be enough once I was on the run, which is why right before I left the hotel whereI was staying and started on the next leg of my journey, I went to Suzette Lowell’s house one last time. I parked in the back, so that nosy neighbor of hers wouldn’t tell Suzette that I had been there. She had a ton of jewelry and other stuff that I could hock.
I feel guilty saying that. I’m not a thief. I have always lived my life with honesty and integrity. My husband has turned me into this. I hope I never see him ever again.
I planned to spend fifteen minutes going through Suzette’s jewelry. I knew which pieces she wore a lot and which ones she would never miss. She has so much jewelry, and all of it is so expensive. Three or four pieces would have been enough to tide me over.
But as it turned out, when I went to the Lowells’ house, Mr. Lowell was already home. I hadn’t expected him to be there during the day, so it surprised me when I descended the stairs after taking three of Suzette’s necklaces and found him standing in the living room, breathing hard as he leaned against a bookcase positioned against the wall by the stairway like he was trying to shift it with his body weight. He grunted loudly, then hunched over as he gripped his belly. I wondered why he was trying to move that bookcase. It was clear that he hurt himself doing it, because when he took a step, he winced.
“Where is she?” he mumbled under his breath. “Where’d that little bitch go?”
Before I could figure out what on earth he was talking about, he raised his eyes, and that was when he saw me. He knew I was not scheduled to be here today, and immediately, his face clouded with suspicion.
“You,” he growled. “What are you doing here?”
“I… I’m cleaning,” I stammered. Even though I clearly had no cleaning supplies with me.
It might not have been so bad if I hadn’t been holding those necklaces in my left hand. Everything would have been differentif I had brought my purse into the house and could have stashed those necklaces out of sight.
“You’ve been stealing from us!” he cried. “I knew it! ItoldSuzette that’s where her jewelry was going! Itoldher she should fire you!”
“No,” I said frantically. “I didn’t…”
