Behind Closed Lies

#1 Teacher—she and Samantha, who also taught at the Learning Ladder preschool, h

affeine, she’d be in danger of falling asleep in the “quiet corner,” and she needed to be on her game. First up were

with a giant tepee and had followed up by sending

n with Richard, Nellie decided. She looked at Samantha’s mug, felt a surge of g

l and hurried into the bedroom to grab her purse. Her phone wasn’t there, though; Nell

?” No

il alert appeared on her screen. She pressed a button to lis

ting, as she sometimes did. She was just overwhelmed. After all, in the next few weeks, she’d pack up h

and she was facing a

he third call i

ront door. The steel

it on the edge of the sink, locked the door, then slung her towel over the rod and stepped into the shower

knots in her shoulders and down her back. She was changing her las

ascara over her blond eyelashes—the only time sh

d, the noise loud and tinny against the porcelain sink. She flinched, and

o see an incoming

ight, beautiful. Counting

h that had seemed stuck in her chest all morni

eet up onto his lap while they talked. Maybe he’d find a way to trace the hidden number. She finish

ross my body as I lay curled in a fetal position. How can it be morning already? Even after months of sleeping alone in a twin—not

in is clear. The reprieve is so cruel. I huddle under the pat

lue eyes fixed on her as his fingertips trace the curve of her cheek. Somet

ng to make you so ha

ost painful. Deep breaths, I remind m

innocent she is. So like me when Richard and I first met, he would cup my face betw

pted. But it didn’t matter. Richard was caring, charismatic, and accomplished. I f

out of our four-bedroom colonial home with it

ge, but the maid still cleaned them every week. I always fou

air, noticing my roots are visible. I pull a box of Clairol Caramel Brown from under the sink to remind myself to t