Chapter 10

Mom lectured her, saying that twenty-six-year-olds should know better than to blab about things that weren’t theirs to share, but Dad sided with Emily—Daddy’s little princess has him wound around her little finger—and pushed me for information. That Sunday dinner was very uncomfortable.

Emily interrupts my thoughts. “Is he in the closet? Is that why you’re not allowed to tell us about him.”

“No!” I say, too loud, making Merry squirm on my chest, but her eyes stay closed. “That’s not it at all. And he hasn’t forbidden me to tell you about him. It’s mychoice.”

Ugh, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say and Emily’s reaction confirms it. She rears back as though I’ve slapped her.

“You choosenot to tell us?” Her light blue eyes are wide with hurt, and a flutter of guilt makes itself known in my belly. “So…what? We’re not trustworthy anymore?”

“That’s not what I meant. You knowI trust you.”