JENNIE

Kimberly curses Christian out so bad over the phone that afterward she has to stop and catch her breath. She reaches a hand out to my shoulder.

"Hopefully Lisa's just walking around to clear her head. Christian said she was giving her space." She groans in disapproval.

But I know Lisa, and I know that she doesn't just "clear her head" by walking around. I try to reach her again, but I'm immediately met with her voicemail. She has turned her phone off completely.

"Do you think she would go to the wedding?" Kim looks at me. "You know, to cause a scene?"

I want to tell her that she wouldn't do that, but with the weight of all of this pressing on her, I can't deny it's a possibility.

"I can't believe I'm even suggesting this," Kimberly says delicately. "But maybe you should come to the wedding after all—at least to make sure she doesn't interrupt? Plus, it's likely that she's trying to find you anyway, and if nobody's on their phones, that's probably where she will look first."

The idea of Lisa's showing up to the church and causing a scene makes me nauseous. But selfishly I hope that she does go there, otherwise I will have almost no chance of finding her. That she has turned her phone off makes me worry if she wants to be found.

"I guess so. Maybe I should go and just stay outside, out front?" I suggest.

Kimberly nods sympathetically, but her expression hardens when a sleek black BMW pulls into the lot, parking next to Kimberly's rental.

Christian steps out, dressed in a suit. "Any word from her?" he asks as he approaches. He leans in to kiss Kimberly on her cheek—a gesture of habit, I suppose—but she pulls away before his lips can touch her skin.

"I'm sorry," I hear him whisper to her.

She shakes her head and turns her attention to me. My heart aches for her; she doesn't deserve such a betrayal. I guess that's the thing about betrayal, though: it holds no prejudice and preys on those who neither see it coming nor deserve it.

"Jennie's coming with and is going to watch out for Lisa at the wedding," she begins to explain. Then she meets Christian's eyes. "So that while we're all inside, she can make sure nothing else interrupts this precious day." The venom in her tone is clear, but she remains calm.

Christian shakes his head at his fiancée. "We aren't going to that damn wedding. Not after all this shit."

"Why not?" Kimberly asks with dead eyes.

"Because this"—Vance gestures back and forth between the two of us

—"and because both of my children are more important than any wedding, especially this one. I don't expect you to sit there with a smile in the same room as her."

Kimberly looks surprised, but at least partially placated by his words. I watch and keep quiet. Christian's referral to Lisa and Smith as his "children" for the first time has rattled me. There are so many things I could say to this man—so many hateful words I desperately want to sling at him—but I know I shouldn't. It won't help anything, and my focus needs to stay on figuring out Lisa's whereabouts and how she is handling the news.

"People will talk. Especially Sasha." Kimberly scowls.

"I don't give a shit about Sasha or Max, or anyone. Let them talk. We live in Seattle, not Thailand." He reaches for her hands, and she lets him gather them between his. "Fixing my mistakes is the only priority I have right now," he says, his voice shaky. The cold anger I feel toward him begins to melt, but only slightly.

"You shouldn't have let Lisa out of the car," Kimberly says, her hands still in Christian's.

"I couldn't exactly stop her. You know Lisa. And then my seat belt got stuck, and I couldn't tell where she went . . . goddammit!" he says, and

Kimberly softly nods in agreement.

I finally sense it's time for me to speak. "Where do you think she went?

If she doesn't show up at the wedding, where should I look?"

"Well, I just checked both bars I know that are open this early," Vance says with a frown. "Just in case." His expression softens when he looks at me. "I know now I shouldn't have separated her from you while I told her. It was a huge mistake, and I know that you're what she needs right now."

Unable to think of anything remotely polite to say to Vance, I give him a simple nod and pull my phone from my pocket to try Lisa yet again. I know her phone won't be on, but I have to try.

While I call, Kimberly and Christian look at each other silently, hand in hand, each searching the other's eyes for some sign. When I hang up, he looks at me and says, "The wedding is starting in twenty minutes. I can drive you there now, if you want."

Kimberly holds up a hand. "I can drive her. You take Smith and go back to the hotel."

"But—" he begins to argue, but given the look on her face, he wisely chooses not to continue. "You'll come back to the hotel, won't you?" he asks, his eyes filled with fear.

"Yes." She sighs. "I'm not going to leave the country."

Relief replaces Christian's panic, and he lets go of Kimberly's hands.

"Be careful and call me if you need anything. You know the address of the church, right?"

"Yes. Give me your keys." She holds out one hand. "Smith's fallen asleep, and I don't want to wake him."

I silently applaud her strong demeanor. I would be a mess if I were her.

I am a mess now, on the inside.

LESS THAN TEN MINUTES LATER, Kimberly drops me off in front of a small church. Most of the guests have already gone inside, leaving only a few stragglers on the outside steps. I take a seat on a bench and watch the streets for any sign of Lisa.

From where I'm sitting, I can hear the wedding march start up inside the church and picture Chit in her wedding gown, walking down the aisle to meet her groom. She's smiling and bright and beautiful.

But the Chit in my mind doesn't coincide with the mother who lies about the father of her only daughter.

The steps empty, and the last few guests go inside to watch Chit and Mike wed. Minutes tick by, and I can hear nearly every sound coming from inside the small building. A half hour later, the guests cheer as the bride and groom are pronounced husband and wife, which I take as my cue to leave. I don't know where I'll go, but I can't just sit here and wait. Chit will be exiting the church soon, and the last thing I need is an awkward run-in with the new bride.

I begin walking back the way we arrived, at least I think. I don't remember exactly, but it's not like I have anywhere to go. I pull out my phone again and redial Lisa, but her phone is still off. My battery is less than half-full, but I don't want to power it off, in case Lisa tries to call.

As I continue my search, aimlessly walking the neighborhood and looking inside at restaurant bars here and there, the sun begins to set in the Thailand sky. I should have asked Kimberly to borrow one of their rentals, but I wasn't thinking clearly at the time and she has other things to worry about right now. Lisa's rental is still parked at Gabriel's, but I don't have a spare key.

The beauty and grace of Thailand diminishes with each step I take into the other side of town. My feet are aching, and the spring air is growing colder as the sun sets. I shouldn't have worn this dress or these stupid shoes. If I had known how today was going to turn out, I would have worn workout clothes and sneakers to make it easier to chase Lisa down. In the future, if I ever leave town with her again, that will be my standard uniform.

After some time, I can't tell if my mind is playing tricks on me or if the street I've wandered onto is actually familiar. It's lined with small houses much like Chit's, but I had been drifting in and out of sleep when Lisa drove us into town, and I don't trust my mind right now. I'm thankful that the streets are mostly empty and all the residents seem to be inside for the night. Otherwise, sharing the streets with the people leaving the bars would make me even more paranoid. I nearly burst into tears of relief when I see Chit's house a little ways off. It's grown dark, but the streetlamps are on, and as I get closer, I'm increasingly positive it's her house. I don't know if Lisa will be there, but I pray that if she isn't, the

door will at least be unlocked, so I can sit down and have some water. I've been walking aimlessly around block after block for hours. I'm lucky that I ended up on the only street in this village that could be of any use to me.

As I near Chit's house, a tattered glowing sign in the shape of a beer distracts me. The small bar is set in between a house and an alley. A chill runs through me. It must have been hard for Chit to stay in the same house, so close to the bar her assailants came from to find Marco. Lisa told me once that she simply couldn't afford to move. The way she shrugged it off surprised me. But, sadly, money is vicious that way.

This is where she is, I know it.

I go up to the little place, and when I pull open the iron door, I'm immediately embarrassed by my attire. I look like a complete madwoman walking into this type of bar in a dress and barefoot, my shoes in my hands.

I gave up on wearing them an hour ago. I drop my heels onto the floor and slide my feet back into them, wincing at the pain of the straps rubbing against the raw patches of skin on my ankles.

The bar isn't crowded, and it doesn't take me long to scan the room and find Lisa, sitting at the bar with a glass raised to her mouth. My heart plummets to the floor. I knew I would find her this way, but my faith in her is taking a beating right now. I had hoped, with everything in me, that she wouldn't resort to drinking her pain away. I take a deep breath before approaching her.

"Lisa." I tap her shoulder.

She swivels the barstool around to face me, and my stomach turns at the sight in front of me. Her eyes are bloodshot, deep, red lines mapping across them so fiercely that the white has nearly disappeared. Her cheeks are flushed, and the smell of liquor is so heavy that I can taste it. My palms begin to sweat, and my mouth goes dry.

"Look who it is,"she slurs. The glass in her hand is nearly empty, and I cringe at the sight of three empty shot glasses on the bar before her.

"How'd you find me, anyway?" She tilts her head back and gulps down the rest of the brown liquor before calling to the man behind the bar,

"Another!"

I move my face so that it's directly in front of Lisa's, so she can't look away. "Baby, are you okay?" I know that she isn't, but don't know how I

should handle her until I can gauge her mood and how much alcohol she's consumed.

"Baby," she says mysteriously, like she's thinking about something else as she talks. But then she snaps to and gives me a killer smile. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Have a seat. Want a drink? Have a drink—barkeep, another!"

The bartender looks at me, and I shake my head no. Not noticing that, Lisa pulls out the stool next to her and pats the seat. I glance around the small bar before climbing up onto the stool.

"So how'd you find me?" she asks again.

I'm confused and put on edge by her behavior. She's clearly drunk, but that's not what is bothering me; it's the eerie calm behind her voice. I've heard it before, and it never brings with it good things.

"I've been walking around for hours, and I recognized your mum's house across the street, so I knew . . . well, I knew I should look here." I shiver at the reminder of Lisa's stories of Marco's spending night after night at this exact bar.

"My little detective." Lisa softly says while raising a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. I don't flinch or pull away, despite the growing anxiety bubbling inside me.

"Will you come with me? I want us to go back to that hotel for the night, and then we can leave in the morning,"

Right then, the bartender brings her drink, and Lisa gives it a serious look. "Not yet."

"Please, Lisa." I meet her bloodshot eyes. "I'm so tired, and I know you are, too." I try to use my weakness against her without bringing up Christian or Marco. I lean closer to her. "My feet are killing me, and I've missed you. Christian tried to find you and couldn't. I've been walking for a while, and I really want to go back to the hotel. Together."

I know her well enough to be certain that if I start rambling about anything too heavy, she'll lose it and this calmness will evaporate in seconds.

"He didn't look that hard. I started drinking"—Lisa holds up her glass

—"at the bar right across from where he left me."

I lean into her, and she begins talking again before I can come up with anything to say. "Have a drink. My friend is here—she'll buy you a shot."

She waves a hand at the glasses on the bar. "We ran into each other at that other fine establishment, but then since it seemed like an evening from the past, I decided to bring us here. For old times' sake."

My stomach drops. "Friend?"

"An old friend of the family." She nods toward a woman emerging from the bathroom. She appears to be in her late thirties, early forties and has bleached-blond hair. I'm relieved that she isn't a young woman, since it appears that Lisa has been drinking with her for a while now.

"I really think we should go," I press, and reach for her hand.

She jerks away. "Judith, this is Jennie Ruby Jane."

"Judy," she corrects her, at the same time that I say "Jennie."

"Nice to meet you." I force a smile and turn back to Lisa. "Please," I beg again.

"Judy knew that my mum was a whore," Lisa says, and the smell of whiskey bombards my senses again.

"I didn't say that." The woman laughs. She's dressed too young for her age. Her top is low cut, and her flared jeans are too tight.

"She did say that. My mum hates Judy!" Lisa smiles.

The strange woman returns her smile. "Wonder why?"

I begin to feel as if I'm on the outside of a private joke between them.

"Why?" I ask without thinking.

Lisa gives her a warning glare and waves her hand, dismissing my question. It takes everything in me not to knock her from the barstool. If I weren't aware that she's only trying to mask her pain, I would do just that.

"Long story, doll." The woman waves for the bartender. "Anyway, you look like you could use some tequila."

"No, I'm okay." The last thing I want is a drink.

"Lighten up, baby." Lisa leans closer to me. "You aren't the one who just found out her entire life is a fucking lie, so lighten up and have a drink with me."

My heart aches for her, but drinking isn't the answer. I need to get her out of here. Now.

"Do you prefer your margaritas frozen or on the rocks? This isn't no fancy place, so you don't have many choices," Judy tells me.

"I said I didn't want a fucking drink," I snap.

Her eyes widen, but she recovers quickly. I'm almost as surprised by my outburst as she is. I hear Lisa chuckle next to me, but I keep my eyes on this woman, who clearly enjoys her secrets.

"Okay, then. Someone needs to relax." She digs her hands into her purse. She pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the oversize bag and lights up. "Smoke?" she asks Lisa.

I look at her, and to my surprise she nods. Judy reaches behind me to hand her the lit cigarette from her mouth. Who the hell is this woman?

The disgusting stick is placed between Lisa's lips, and she takes a puff. Tendrils of smoke swirl between us, and I cover my mouth and nose.

I glare at her. "Since when do you smoke?"

"I've always smoked. Just not since I started at WCU." She takes another drag. The glowing red fire at the end of the cigarette taunts me, and I reach over and snatch it from Lisa's mouth and drop it into her half-full glass.

"What the fuck?" she half yells and stares down at her ruined drink.

"We are leaving. Now." I step down from the barstool, grabbing hold of Lisa's sleeve and pulling at her.

"No. We aren't." She twists away from my grip and attempts to get the bartender's attention.

"She doesn't want to leave," Judy chimes in.

My anger is boiling, and this woman is just pissing me off. I stare deep into her mocking eyes, which I can barely find through the anthill of mascara she's caked on. "I don't remember asking you. Mind your own business, and find a new drinking partner, because we are leaving!" I shout.

She looks at Lisa, expecting her to defend her—and then the sick history between the two of them comes to me. This isn't the way a "friend of the family" would behave with the daughter of her friend who is half her age.

"I said I don't want to leave," Lisa insists.

I've pulled out all the stops here, and she isn't listening. My last option is to play on her jealousy—a low blow, especially in the state she's in, but she's left me no other choice.

"Well," I say as I begin scanning the bar exaggeratedly, "if you won't take me back to the hotel, I will have to find someone else to do it." My eyes settle on the youngest man in the place, who is at a table with her friends. I give Lisa a few seconds to respond, and when she doesn't, I begin walking toward the group of young men.

Lisa's hand is around my arm in mere seconds. "Hell no, you won't."

I spin around, taking note of the barstool she's knocked over in her haste to reach me, and Judy's ridiculously uncoordinated attempts to get it back upright.

"Then take me back," I reply with a tilt of my head.

"I'm wasted," she says, as if that justifies this whole scene.

"I know. We can call a cab to take us to Gabriel's, and I'll drive the rental to the hotel." Inside I say a little prayer that this ruse will work.

Lisa squints at me for a second. "You've got it all figured out, don't you?" she mumbles sarcastically.

"No, but staying here isn't doing a bit of good, so either you go pay for your drinks and take me out of here, or I will leave with someone else."

She releases her light grip on my arm and steps close. "Don't you threaten me. I could just as easily leave with someone else," she says, only inches from my face.

A sting of jealousy pains me, but I ignore it. "Go ahead. Go home with Judy, then. I know you slept with her before. I can tell." I keep my back straight and my voice steady as I challenge her.

She looks at me, then to her, and smiles a little. I flinch, and she frowns.

"It wasn't anything too impressive. I barely remember it." She's attempting to make me feel better, but her words have the opposite effect.

"Well? What's it going to be?" I raise my brow.

"Damn it," she grumbles, then half stumbles back to the bar to pay for her drinks. It looks like she just empties her pockets on the bar, and after the bartender extracts some bills, she shoves the rest in Judy's direction.

She looks at her and then over at me, sinking a little as if something has deflated her spine.

As we exit the bar, Lisa says, "Judy says bye," and it makes me want to explode.

"Don't talk to me about her," I snap.

"Are you jealous, Jennie Ruby Jane?" she slurs, wrapping her arm around me.

"Fuck, I hate this place, this bar, that house." She gestures toward the small house across the street. "Oh! You want to know something funny? Vance lived there." Lisa points to the brick house directly next to the bar. A dim light is on upstairs, and a car is parked in the driveway. "I wonder what he was doing the night that those men came into our fucking house."

Lisa's eyes scan the ground, and she bends down. Before I realize what's happening, her arm is raised behind her head, a brick in her hand.

"Lisa, no!" I yell and grab her arm. The brick falls to the ground and skids across the concrete.

"Fuck this." She tries to reach for it, but I stand in front of her. "Fuck all of this! Fuck this street! Fuck this bar and that fucking house! Fuck everyone!"

She stumbles again and walks into the street. "If you won't let me destroy that house . . ." Her voice trails off, and I pull my shoes from my feet and follow her across the street and into the front yard of her childhood home.