Page 85 of Dying to Meet You

“Look alive,” her mother nags from the doorway. “I made coffee, and I made you a yogurt parfait. You have a half hour to eat it and get dressed.”

“Maybe I won’t go,” she mumbles.

Her mother makes a sound of irritation, because the yoga membership isn’t free. She’s heard this lecture several times before.I told you Saturday mornings were a bad idea, but you swore you’d go.

Whatever. She’s too mad to care. Her mother didn’t learn much yesterday about her father’s situation. Unless she’s holding back the truth. That’s Natalie’s real fear.

“You know... Beatrice said something about donuts after yoga.”

Natalie doesn’t budge. She just lies there like a lump, wondering how far her mother will push her on this terrible day.

Not far, as it turns out. With an almost inaudible sigh, her mother gives up and retreats from the doorway.

Except now Natalie’s thinking about donuts.

And she doesn’t want her yoga membership canceled.

She gets up and puts on some leggings and a Lululemon top. Pops her hair into a knot and descends the stairs on silent feet.

In the kitchen, her mother is seated at the table with her laptop. Natalie approaches silently. The Google search screen saysLisa Peoples.

“What are you doing?”

Her mother jerks around, startled.

“Who is Lisa Peoples?” Natalie asks.

“Nobody. A dead end.” She closes the tab.

“A dead end for what?” She sits down on the chair beside her mother’s and pulls the yogurt parfait closer.

There are strawberries and blueberries in it. Her mom clearly feels guilty about something.

Natalie picks up her spoon, knowing she ought to say thank you. But she doesn’t. “What are you doing?” she asks.

Her mother frowns. “You remember how I found out that Tim was adopted?”

“A hundred percent. Was he adopted from the mansion? That Home for Wayward Girls?”

What a screwed-up name that is, anyway. So old-fashioned. But even if the words have changed, the idea never will. Boys who have sex are studs. Girls who have sex are sluts or whores. Everybody knows it.

“He was born there,” her mother says quietly. “I didn’t know. But one of the pictures he took off my phone? It was a photo of the mansion’s birth record.”

“Well,that’snot creepy.”

Her mother’s smile is just a twitch of her lips. “It is... odd. But I keep coming back to his interest in the mansion. I’m not the only one who thinks it’s weird.”

“Show me these pictures,” Natalie demands through a mouthful of yogurt. If there’s a good reason Tim got killed, they can’t just sleep on it. Her father is sitting injailright now.

Her mother hesitates for a second, then clicks through some photos on her computer.

Natalie spots Tim’s entry right away. He’s the only Aquarius on the page. “The birth date matches. So who is L. Peoples?”

“Nobody, apparently. I googled it and got nothing. Then I started guessing what theLwas for, and it didn’t help. Laura, Lydia, Lisa. There’s nothing in Maine. Maybe she’s dead.”

Natalie sags in the chair. “What would you do if you found her?”

“I don’t know. Tell the police, I guess?”