Page 19

People lie.

They leave.

They die.

I’m rolling the dough when I hear a sound behind me.

I spin around, gripping the wooden rolling pin with both hands.

Sean stops walking.

“It’s only me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” His gaze moves to the rolling pin. “That would probably hurt.”

“Aunt Addy said anything can be a weapon.”

“Your aunt was right.”

His eyes rise to my hair.

I forgot about the disguise.

The wig and glasses are in the bedroom. My white-blond hair hangs nearly to my waist.

Sean stares at me.

For one frightening second, he looks as if he’s seen a ghost.

“What?” I ask.

He takes one slow step into the kitchen.

“You look just like your mother.”

My grip loosens on the rolling pin.

“Only taller,” he adds.

“I’m glad I look like her.”

“So am I.”

“I’m going to find her.”

He comes closer. “We’ll find her together.”

Movement appears behind him.

Taylor, Will, and Arthur stand in the hallway, all three wearing sweatpants and wrinkled shirts. Apparently, the smell of cinnamon can wake former Delta Special Forces soldiers from a dead sleep.

Arthur looks at me and blinks.

“Now I understand the disguise.”

Taylor gives him a warning look.