Sister Dear by Hannah Mary McKinnon

Sister Dear by Hannah Mary McKinnon

Author:Hannah Mary McKinnon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA Books
Published: 2020-03-18T12:23:43+00:00


CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

INSTEAD OF GOING HOME after Victoria rushed off to tend to Hugh, I headed south on Union Street. Thanksgiving was almost upon us, Christmas coming soon after, and the Portland party brigade had already begun working their seasonal magic. Soon the place would be transformed into a winter wonderland with sparkling, multicolored trees, giant red-and-white candy canes and glittering garland. No corner, storefront or lamppost would be spared, no street could escape the festive makeover. Eager shoppers already hurried by, bags laden with gift-wrapped boxes. Even the crisp air had joined the party, filling itself with the scent of gingerbread.

My mind, which had skipped the overdrive stage, zooming straight into warp speed, felt as if it might explode. To escape all the hustle, bustle and razzle-dazzle, I pushed through the crowds, walked past the restaurants and went to the end of the wharf. It was marginally quieter there with fewer people, but still not enough to calm the mile-a-minute thoughts in my brain.

I’d expected my brazenness to have disappeared since I left Jake’s Cakes, thought it would melt away like chocolate in the summer sun. Victoria had invited me to her apartment, I reminded myself, waiting for the tsunami of panic to hit. In under forty-eight hours, I’d get what I’d been wondering about all this time—a look into her life, the inside scoop. Not too long ago the prospect would’ve terrified me, left me tongue-tied and red-faced, ready to run. Now a calmness enveloped me, a thick stone shell keeping any nervousness in check.

I couldn’t wait to get to her place. Couldn’t wait to meet Hugh, either. I’d examined his face in the photos, already sketched them both in my book, although I’d torn the page out and left it in the kitchen. As for Victoria, well, if tonight was anything to go by, she thought we were on the fast track to becoming firm friends.

An image of Stan flitted through my brain, and I conjured his voice into my mind. I imagined his praise and congratulatory words of encouragement when Victoria told him about her new website designer, how she’d taken another step toward being an entrepreneur. Then I saw his face paling, falling, knew his pulse would quicken when she mentioned my name, when he understood I’d gone against his orders and found my way into their lives after all.

I smiled as I looked across the dark water. Playing a game when you were the only one who knew the rules—and made them up as you went along—felt exhilarating and intoxicating.

The wickedness I never knew I had inside me clambered from the bottom of my heart like a demon. Instead of pushing it away, I greeted it, let it crawl to my ear, tell me this wasn’t a fairy-tale life where things worked out in the end. I had to take charge, and it wouldn’t happen by letting people walk all over me, as I always had. It was time to come out of the shadows,



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