9.

Voices carried up to Sophia. At first she imagined she was still in rehab, that some of her fellow "inmates"-as they'd jokingly referred to themselves-were talking in the hall outside her room. But when she opened her eyes and blinked at the ceiling, she realized she was at home. Then the rest of what had happened during the past month came rushing in on her. Skip was dead but he hadn't just stepped out of her life like she'd long hoped he would; he'd done everything he could to ruin her first. She had a thousand dollars or so to her name and no way to earn more. Alexa needed her but she was turning out to be as terrible a mother as Skip had always accused her of being. And all of that reminded her of why she didn't want to wake up. She was going to lose her daughter. Agent Freeman had warned her. There didn't seem to be a d.a.m.n thing she could do about it, though. Except sleep. Sleep was her only escape.

She almost drifted off again, but Alexa was talking to someone in the cathedral-like entrance of their house, and curiosity got the better of her.

Had her daughter brought home a friend from school?

No, she'd come back a while ago. Alone. She claimed she was being treated as well as ever, but Sophia hadn't seen any proof of her life returning to normal. Where were the girls who used to hang out with her? The girls who liked to come over and play in the game room? Or visit the garage to see the two Ferraris Skip owned? Or make an ice-cream creation at the soda fountain in the bas.e.m.e.nt?

Sophia couldn't think about that, wouldn't think of it. It hurt too badly to suspect that her daughter might be suffering more than she said. That she might be hiding her pain because she was worried about Sophia.

She'd left after school to go to the store. She must've run into someone there.

"Alexa?" Sophia called.

The talking quieted for a moment, then her daughter responded. "What?"

"You got home okay?"

"Yes."

"Who's with you?"

"I brought a...a friend."

Good. She needed one.

When they moved into the kitchen, Sophia couldn't hear them anymore, so she pulled the blankets over her head. At least her daughter was safe. At least Lexi had something besides soup to eat. Now Sophia didn't have to regret letting her go out alone.

The pungent smell of garlic and tomatoes woke Sophia some time later. She didn't think she'd been sleeping long, but she knew her daughter didn't have the cooking skills to create such a delectable smell-like an Italian restaurant. Maybe her friend was helping her.... She was about to call Lexi's name, to find out what was going on, when she heard a light tread on the stairs and saw a woman, not a girl, poke her head into the room. "Hey."

Sophia squinted, trying to identify this person, but it was too dark to see. She'd been keeping the blinds shut. The sun had set since the last time she'd fallen asleep, anyway. The digital clock on the nightstand told her that. "Who is it?"

"Eve."

"Ted's friend?" Sophia definitely didn't want anyone connected with him to see how badly she was faring.

"Your friend."

That couldn't be true. She didn't have any friends. She'd alienated them when she was a teenager, right before making the biggest mistake of her life by marrying Skip. But she didn't want word of her diminished state to get back to Ted, so she struggled to put some energy into her voice. "Oh, hey. Sorry I'm not feeling well. Maybe you could come back another time."

"But then you'd miss the amazing dinner Alexa and I cooked for you. Where's your robe?"

"What?" She'd expected Eve to apologize and excuse herself. That was what most people would do. It wasn't as if they knew each other all that well.

"You have a young lady downstairs who's setting a beautiful table, just waiting to show her mother all the wonderful things she helped make. So I'm going to wrap you up in your robe and walk you down the stairs. And you're going to have dinner. Maybe once you've got some food in your stomach, you'll have the strength to shower."

"I can't," she said. "I-I'm sick."

"Then we'll take you to a doctor."

She didn't want a doctor. She was terrified of what a doctor might tell her, terrified she'd wind up like her mother. She just wanted to continue hiding from the world until she could get back on her feet. "I'll get up later. Maybe another day."

"You can't put it off, Sophia."

She raised her head. "Why not?"

"Because it'll only get harder."

There was truth in that. Sophia knew it. How had she even arrived at this dark place? It was humiliating to feel so lost, so helpless. Skip would never have stood for it. She was embarra.s.sed herself. She had so many enemies who would take pleasure in seeing her crushed and broken and, for all she knew, Eve was one of them. "You don't have to trouble yourself," she muttered. "I'll be fine in a few days."

"That's what I hope. Are you hungry?"

She should be, but... "I can't tell."

"That means you've been hungry for too long. Let's get some food into you."

The light went on. Sophia covered her face against its painful brightness as Eve collected her robe and slippers, then helped her put them on. "You ready?"

"For what?" Sophia couldn't believe this was happening. Eve had never shown any interest in her before, not since high school, and they certainly hadn't been friends back then.

Eve slipped her head under Sophia's arm so she could support the majority of her weight as they stood. "For a trip to the dinner table."

Sophia's chest grew tight as she leaned on a woman who had no particular reason to care about her. She hadn't cried since she'd taken to her bed. It felt like she'd been numb since the funeral. But she was starting to feel more acutely again-and the burning and p.r.i.c.kling sensation of coming alive stung so badly she could hardly bear it.

"Eve?"

They took a few careful steps toward the door. "Yes?"

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because life is hard enough without trying to manage the worst of times alone."

She swallowed the tears that were welling up. "Do you believe I knew what Skip was doing?"

"Did you?" she asked as they entered the hall and approached the long, sweeping staircase.

"No."

Eve paused, staring into Sophia's face. "Then stop letting him get the better of you," she whispered. "What he did was terrible. But you can still make a good life for yourself and Alexa if you fight. Do you understand?"

She nodded. Eve was right, of course. Sophia had to change her thinking, had to get past the despair. "How do I start?" she whispered.

"By taking it one day at a time. Or, if that's too much, one hour at a time." Eve squeezed her tighter. "Will you try?"

"I will," she said and meant it.

"Then you'll be fine." Eve helped her down to the dining room, where Alexa was waiting with a hopeful smile on her face.

"Doesn't the food smell good, Mommy? And doesn't the table look pretty?"

Sophia shifted her gaze from the antipasto, to the spaghetti and meatb.a.l.l.s, to the salad and garlic bread. Alexa had set out their best crystal, china and silverware for this Italian feast. There was even a slice of lemon in her water gla.s.s.

This meal signified something, she realized: It signified a new beginning.

"It does look pretty," she breathed and made herself a promise as she sat down. No matter how bad it got, she wouldn't give up. Wouldn't allow her mother-in-law to take custody of Alexa. Wouldn't allow alcohol to ruin her. She'd prove Skip wrong, d.a.m.n it. The whole town, too. She'd prove she had more backbone, more strength, than anyone imagined. And she'd do it by getting a job and working herself out of the mess he'd left her in.

But just after she'd eaten and had begun to talk and laugh and feel a sense of well-being for the first time since Skip went missing, there was a knock at the door.

Sophia was in no position to see anyone, so Alexa answered it.

"Who was it?" Sophia asked the moment Alexa returned.

She handed Sophia an envelope. "He said his name was Mr. Groscost."

"The guy who bought the tractor place from Noah's dad?" Eve said.

When Alexa shrugged, Sophia exchanged a glance with Eve and opened the letter.

"What does he want?" Eve murmured as Sophia skimmed the contents.

Feeling some of the old panic, Sophia swallowed hard and read the letter more carefully. "A 'certain number' of Skip's investors want to meet with me."

Eve blanched. "What for?"

"To discuss their 'options.'"

"What options?"

"Repayment of some kind, I guess."

"When?"

"Tomorrow night."

"Don't tell me they're coming here," Eve said.

"No. They want to meet at the church."

Eve took the letter and read it for herself. Reverend Flores was among those who'd signed it. He must've lost money investing with Skip, too, which was why he'd offered the church as their meeting place. "You don't have to go. As a matter of fact, I suggest you don't."

"Listen to Eve, Mommy," Alexa begged.

Sophia hated seeing the haunted look back in her daughter's eyes. "Maybe it'll help," she said.

"How?" Eve asked.

"I can't hide in this house forever. We just established that, didn't we?"

"But I have no idea how these people will treat you. Actually, I do have an idea. That's why I'm worried."

"Maybe if I give them a chance to vent their anger, to throw whatever punches they're dying to throw, they'll begin to heal so I can, too."

Eve sighed as she slouched in a chair. "I don't like the sound of that."

"In order to get past what happened, I have to confront these people sometime," Sophia said. "It might as well be now."

Eve nibbled nervously on her bottom lip. "Then I'm going with you."

Ted knew he had no business attending this meeting. He needed to stay as far away from Sophia DeBussi as possible. Maybe he didn't like her, but he was still attracted to her, which was a dangerous combination. So when he first pulled into the church, he almost turned around and drove off-until he saw the number of cars in the lot. Once he realized how outnumbered she'd be, he parked. He didn't believe in kicking people when they were down, even if they deserved it. Especially a woman. And, beyond that, a woman with a kid. He wanted to make sure this didn't get out of hand.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He'd been driving right into the sunset. But from what he could see when he walked in, she hadn't arrived yet. He stood at the back of the church, listening as the boisterous, angry group congregating near the pulpit talked about her as if she were pure evil. They wanted to believe that she, and not Skip, had stolen their money. Ted heard Eric Groscost say that Skip never would've done what he did if she hadn't demanded he keep her in luxury, and several others readily agreed.

Ted rolled his eyes. Although Sophia had no doubt enjoyed Skip's money and the prestige it afforded her, he was pretty sure these people were conveniently forgetting how arrogant and egotistical Skip had been.

Reverend Flores spotted him before any of the others did. "Ted," he said, hurrying down the aisle to greet him. "I'm so glad you could come. I had no idea you were caught up in this, too."

He grunted so he wouldn't have to explain why he'd decided to attend if he wasn't an investor, and took a seat in the back row.

"Don't you want to join us up front?" Flores asked. "Sophia should be here any minute."

If she knew what was good for her, she wouldn't show. But he'd had coffee with his friends this morning and Eve had mentioned that they were both planning to attend. "I'm fine back here," he said. "Maybe you could just tell me... What do you guys hope to accomplish tonight?"

"What do you mean?" Flores replied. "We're hoping to get back as much of our money as we can."

Eve had made Sophia's situation seem dire. Didn't they realize that Skip had cheated her far more than he'd cheated them? "From where? You know the old saying about getting blood from a turnip."

"She's hardly a turnip, Ted. Her wedding ring alone has to be worth enough to pay off half the people in this room."

"You expect her to sell her wedding ring?"

"Yeah, I expect her to sell it. Why should she be walking around with a rock like that when I lost my life savings? She has other things she could sell, too."

Ted gestured at the crowd. "Enough to satisfy everyone here?"

"Something is better than nothing. It might sound cruel, but it's only right that she try to make amends. That's the Lord's way."

"I thought forgiveness was the Lord's way," Ted murmured.

"She has to bring forth fruit meet for repentance first." He raised his chin as if he'd just put Ted in his place, but Ted wasn't willing to let it go that easily.