Was it any wonder Ariana had escaped to Vermont and normalcy as soon as she was able?
And she’d stayed there until that phone call. The one telling her that her twin sister was missing.
“You people are insane! Aren’t you worried about Zoe?” she asked.
Zoe, the vibrant, lively one. Ariana refused to believe her sister was dead. According to documented studies, Ariana should have felt her death the moment her twin left this earth. She’d known the moment Zoe broke her leg when they were seven. Surely Ariana would sense her death now. She didn’t, and her heart insisted Zoe was still alive. She had to be or Ariana’s chance to make amends would be gone along with her.
At the mention of Zoe’s name, silence had descended in the kitchen and lasted long enough for Ariana to grow increasingly uncomfortable. And guilty. Of course they were worried. Despite the hustle of daily activity, Ariana had felt the pall of Zoe being missing, and when they thought no one was looking, she’d caught a look of sadness in each of her relatives’ eyes.
Finally Nicholas rose from his seat and hugged Ariana. “It’s okay,” he said, his hold on her tight. “It is just that we agreed not to discuss Zoe until she walks in the door. Safe and well.”
“And she will,” her mother added with certainty. “Until then it’s business as usual. And wait until you hear what new business we have planned.”
Ariana wasn’t interested in their newest scam, but those words of normalcy, at least by her family’s standards, along with the scent of her father’s aftershave, reassured Ariana as it had when she was a child.
Until he spoke. “Don’t worry about your sister. Zoe’s strong. After all, she’s an Addams.”
Which was enough for Ariana. “I need some air.” She stepped outside and left behind the commotion, which had begun again.
Blocking out her family, Ariana started for Islet Pier. Though it was fall, she couldn’t mistake the smell of the ocean, a part of living in a coastal town. And a part she missed when in the mountains of Vermont. Only after she’d walked far from her house did she realize she should have grabbed her coat. The cool breeze from the water and the fall temperatures combined to chill her skin. With home being the alternative, she shoved her hands into her front pants pockets and strode on.
Not surprisingly, Islet Pier and the stretch of beach she and her sister used to frequent when they were kids were empty. Ariana recalled the many hours she and Zoe had played together here and the good times they’d shared, the pictures in her mind as vivid as if she and Zoe were together now. A lump rose to Ariana’s throat along with the determination to find her twin and set things right between them.
A voice muffled by the sound of crashing waves interrupted her thoughts. Ariana believed she was imagining things brought on by her memories. Then she heard it again.
“Zoe!” the male voice yelled out more clearly.
Surprised, Ariana lifted her head and hoped that she’d see her sister, alive and well and as real as the sand surrounding her. She stepped out from the covering of Islet Pier and looked into the glare of the sun. At the same moment a shot rang out and a hard body threw Ariana to the ground.
* * *
“Hey, mister!”
Quinn Donovan stepped out of the South Side Center, a town-run facility for down-on-their-luck kids. He glanced at the gangly street urchin on the corner, all long limbs and wisecracking smile. “Hey, Sam. How you doing today?”
“Not bad. Bet I can tell you where you got them shoes.”
Quinn looked down at his scuffed loafers. “Where’d I get my shoes?” he asked, playing along.
The teen paused a beat before continuing. “You got ’em on your feet.” “Sam” was Samantha, and she burst into belly-aching laughter at the same joke Quinn heard from her every time he volunteered. Quinn came by often to help, playing basketball with the kids or cleaning or doing whatever else was necessary.
He glanced at Sam and chuckled. Sam and the other kids reminded Quinn of his real life and prevented him from losing touch with who he really was. He’d pulled strings to get Sam placed in a decent foster home, and he refused to put up with any shit that would jeopardize her placement there.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?” he asked her.
“Shouldn’t you mind your own business?” The laughter quickly died as her huge green eyes flashed with defiant, angry sparks.
Quinn had been the same rebellious pain in the ass at that age. Stepping closer, he pulled the Yankees cap off her head and a mass of tangled blonde hair fell over her shoulders. Without the disguise she appeared younger and more vulnerable. Smart foster kids like Sam tried to beat the system by making themselves invisible in the mistaken belief they’d have a better chance at remaining in one home.