Page 104 of The Starfish Sisters

She nods, chastened.

“You know how you worry about tsunamis and bombs that are never going to fall and all those other things?”

“Yeah.” She twines her fingers through my hair.

“I worry aboutyou. My whole job when I’m with you is to keep you safe and make sure nothing hurts you, do you get it?”

“Yes.” Tears are spilling from her eyes, too. “I’m sorry.”

“Go take a warm shower and get in my bed. I’ll be up soon.”

She nods, keeping herself small. Before she runs upstairs, she gives Suze a hug, too. I see that my friend’s hair is unbrushed and she’s not wearing a bra—she jumped out of bed to go find her.

When Jasmine goes upstairs, I say, “We need to call the sheriff.”

“Already done,” Joel says. He cocks a thumb toward the porch. “I’ll wait outside.”

He touches Suze on the shoulder and there’s that spark, the lingering that catches my eye. “You can go,” I say wearily.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“No. I’m not.” All the roaring emotions surge through my body, and I’m shaking from head to toe. I can barely breathe, overcome with both the aftermath of terror and the relief. I sink on the couch, bend my head to my hands, and weep. “Oh my God.”

Suze sits down beside me, wraps her arms around my shoulders. “It’s okay,” she says. “She’s safe. Everything is okay.”

After the worst of the toxic fear spills from my body, I raise my head. “Where was she?”

“In the hippie bus. We talked about you painting it when she was with me.”

A twist of panic reappears. I would never have thought of looking for her there. “What made you think of it?”

“I don’t know. I was praying and—it popped into my mind.”

A zing of fury blasts through my sinuses. “Oh, of course God answersyourprayers and not mine.” The bitterness is ridiculous and even I know it as it comes out, but I need to be angry and she’s there.

“Phoebe,” she says with reproach. “That’s not what I meant. You know better than that.”

All the terror I’ve been feeling transforms into a white-hot anger. “I don’t know what I know. Clearly I’ve been a fucking idiot for forty years because you and Joel aren’t just friends. You never were, were you? He was the father of your baby.”

“Look,” she says with quiet reason. “You have some things to answer for as well, but this is not the time for that discussion. You’re upset, and very understandably. Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

But there’s a roaring in my ears and her reasonable tone is more than I can bear. “Stop trying to settle me. Tell me the truth.”

For a long second, she stares at me. She swallows and straightens her shoulders. “Yes.” She sighs. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you for ages.”

“It’s been a while, so why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. It was weird that I kept the secret in the first place and I knew you would get mad, and I’ve been trying to find the right time, but you can be so ... volatile.”

“Maybe because people lie to me!” I step back. Cross my arms. “You need to go.”

“Seriously? We’re doingthisagain?” She narrows her eyes. “I’m not the only person who lied, though, am I?”

A frisson of guilt moves through my gut. “What are you talking about?”

“Joel gave you a letter for me, and you never gave it to me.”

I bow my head. Nod.