Bella jumped off the couch and ran to her room. She flung a change of clothes and a few hair products into her only piece of luggage, a roller suitcase with a rainbow butterfly print. It would have to do.

  Next, she searched her closet for something to wear that said “upstanding citizen” and “likely voter.” She shoved aside one outfit after another, finally opting for black slacks and a flowy teal blouse with an empire waist. Smoky eyeshadow concealed that she’d been crying, and pink lip gloss completed the look.

  She stocked her purse with power bars and canned soda, then turned off all the lights and hauled the suitcase to her car.

  The air was cool, but the sun was out. Gauzy white clouds streaked the sky. It was a good day for a road trip. A good day to get the hell out of town.

  * * *

  When Nadine got home, she was filthy and sticky with sweat thanks to the afternoon spent unloading a massive truck—by herself, as usual, only this time there was no one to bring her a cold drink and carbs afterward.

  Her stomach was in knots as she unlocked the door. I have to fix this.

  Nadine was prepared to grovel—for sleeping with Bella, then ruining the night—and if she couldn’t make it okay, she would move out. By now, she had enough cash for a week in a cheap motel. After that, she’d figure something out.

  She pushed open the door, prepared to find Bella curled in a fetal position on the couch or buried under the covers in her bed. Instead, the apartment was dark and silent. She flipped on the light and looked around. There was no sign of her.

  The bedroom door was ajar, the only light from the late afternoon sun. Nadine knocked, then pushed the door open and turned on the light.

  The bed was unmade, but the sheets had been changed. The rose-patterned ones were crumpled in a pile on the floor.

  Clothes were strewn across the bed. Nice clothes. Blouses and a dress, as though Bella had been trying on outfits to prepare for…what? A job interview? A date?

  She’s probably just visiting Raelyn. Nadine imagined the two women sipping cocktails while Bella told her friend all the embarrassing details, like the fact that Nadine had never been with a woman before. Nadine hated the thought of a stranger knowing her secrets, but Bella deserved to confide in someone.

  Nadine showered and changed into sweats, then microwaved an ice-encrusted frozen dinner and settled onto the couch to wait. After a while, she turned on the television and watched a local news broadcast from start to finish. When she looked up again, it was dark outside.

  She turned off the television and texted Bella: Are you coming home tonight? If you want me to leave, just tell me and I will.

  No response.

  Bella was a compulsive phone checker; she always texted back right away. This must be the silent treatment. The thought of Bella refusing to speak to her was like a weight on her chest.

  Nadine opened Skype and messaged her sister. I fucked up, Pati.

  Right away, Patricia initiated a video call. She was still in her nightgown—it was morning there—and cradling Miko, who sucked on a bottle of milk. “What’s wrong, ate?”

  No turning back now. “I slept with Bella.”

  Patricia’s jaw dropped. “What? Omigod! When?”

  “Last night.”

  “Wow. You finally had s-e-x with a woman. Did you like it?”

  Nadine shifted uncomfortably. She never talked about sex with anyone, especially not her sister.

  Before she could answer, Patricia said, “Wait. How did you mess up?”

  Nadine sighed. “Bella told me she loves me. Right after we—you know. I told her we can’t be in a relationship, and she got very upset. She called in sick to work, and now she’s gone and not answering my texts.”

  “Oh no, ate. That’s so bad.”

  “I know. I never should have slept with her. But she said these things to me. She said she forgives me, and it just filled me. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear that from her.”

  Patricia scrutinized her from the other side of the world. “You need to tell her the truth. You should tell everyone—you know my opinion on that—but at least start with Bella. She deserves to know.”

  For once, Nadine didn’t argue. Patricia was right. She had always been right, about the whole damn thing—the folly of falling on the sword, the futility of trying to build a new life on a pile of lies.

  “Do you want Bella to be your girlfriend?” Patricia stroked Miko’s head.

  “What I want doesn’t matter. You know what it would be like for her. I won’t let my mistakes ruin her life.”

  Patricia scoffed. “There you go again. You think you know what’s best for everybody, and it always turns out to be you suffering. Bella doesn’t need you to protect her. She needs the truth. She’s an adult who can make her own choices.”

  She couldn’t help remembering that Bella had said something similar last night. “Maybe I should trust her.”

  “It’s not about trust. It’s about respect.”

  “You’re wise, little sister. Sometimes it’s like you’re my ate.”

  Nadine’s phone chirped with a notification. It was a text from Bella. “I have to go. Bella just got back to me, and I need—”

  “You need to talk to her. We’ll talk another time. Tell me what happens, okay?”

  “I promise.” Nadine ended the call and tapped the message icon.

  Something came up. I’m not coming home tonight.

  After a few seconds, another message followed: I don’t want you to leave.

  Nadine took a deep breath. She still had a place to live. That was something. But what could have “come up” coincidentally on the day Bella had called in sick to avoid her?

  Maybe it was code for getting drunk with Raelyn or staying at her mom’s. Or maybe it had nothing to do with her at all. Maybe something else was going on—on top of everything happening between them.

  Nadine texted back: Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?

  The response came a few minutes later. I’m fine.

  “Well, that clears it up.” Nadine threw her phone to the other side of the couch.

  Chapter 27

  Bella arrived in Sumter an hour before the town hall, relying on her GPS app to navigate the unfamiliar streets. After a few missed turns, she found the event site—a Baptist church—with thirty minutes to spare.

  A massive brick building loomed over her, indicating there would be plenty of room for a large audience. Bella relaxed as she revised the odds that she’d get into the event.

  She joined the line, which extended down the sidewalk and snaked around the courtyard. While she waited, she reviewed her game plan. She would try for a seat near an aisle with a direct path to the stage. She wouldn’t speak during the town hall—what she had to say wasn’t for public consumption—but when the event was over, she would join the supporters mobbing the candidate for selfies.

  When she reached Alyssa, she would hold out her phone—set to record video—lean in close, and ask her question. She didn’t expect an honest answer, of course, but she hoped Alyssa’s reaction would tell her what she wanted to know. And she’d have the whole thing on video.

  As she got closer to the double doors at the front of the church, Bella saw they were checking IDs and searching purses. Her own purse contained a bottle of cola and a bag of gummy bears. She stuffed the gummy bears in a zipper pocket, hoping they wouldn’t look too closely. If they objected to the cola, she’d just chuck it.

  When she reached the checkpoint, a grouchy-looking security officer with massive triceps looked her up and down. “ID?”

  Bella presented her driver’s license and opened her purse.

  But instead of looking inside, the officer returned her license and said, “The event is for South Carolina residents only.”

  “What? You can’t be serious. I drove five hours for this.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” He clearly didn’t give a shit. “Next in line.”

  In a panic, she decided to try flirting. “Alyssa Jackson is my hero. If I don’t get to see her, I will seriously cry.” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger and fluttered her eyelashes. “Can’t you make one tiny exception?”

  “No exceptions.”

  “But—”

  “Next!” He turned to the man in line behind her, who smugly presented his ID.

  Bella stood on the church lawn blinking back tears. Had she really spent her hard-earned commission money on gas and a hotel room for this? Lord, what a dumpster fire of a day.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?” A skinny guy with curly black hair approached her. Bella noticed a lanyard around his neck and had the fleeting hope that he might be with the campaign. Then she read the badge. He was press.

  Still, maybe he could help. “I drove here from Virginia, and they won’t let me in because I’m not a resident.”

  “Oh yeah. Jackson restricts these things to locals. And scumbag reporters like me.” He grinned.

  “You’re from out of town?”

  “Yeah. Tom Rossi, Washington Post. I’m with Jackson’s press pool.”

  “Oh, that’s cool. Um, do you think you could sneak me in? It would really mean a lot to me.”

  Tom studied her. “You came a long way. Were you hoping to ask a question?”

  “Not exactly.” Bella thought fast. “I’m a big fan, and I’ve always wanted to meet her. I finally got a day off work, and I thought this was my chance.”

  “Hmm.” Tom pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. “Are you staying the night?”

  “Yes…” He better not ask for a date.

  “I’ll tell you what. I can’t get you into the town hall, but tomorrow morning Jackson is speaking at USC Sumter. It’s for students only, but she’ll stop for breakfast on the way. They haven’t said where, but I’m certain she’ll be at Guignard Diner, just down the road from the campus.”

  He held up his phone to show her the location. “Get there before nine. Have some breakfast and wait. You might get lucky.”

  Well, that was something. “Okay. Thanks for the tip.”

  When she got back to her car, she looked up the diner on her phone. It was near the college, like he said. Maybe she could salvage the trip after all.

  * * *

  After a restless night at a two-star hotel in downtown Sumter, Bella arrived at Guignard Diner just after eight.

  The restaurant was a freestanding building painted hunter green with an expansive parking lot crowded with pickup trucks. Inside, the olive-green walls were cluttered with baseball memorabilia, including numerous black-and-white photos of players and teams from the olden days. The plain furniture and elderly clientele completed the snapshot of small-town America. Bella could see why Tom had guessed that Alyssa would choose it for a photo op.

  A bottle-blonde, busty waitress named Darlene pointed Bella to a small table for two. Luckily, it was only a few yards from the entrance.

  She sat in the chair facing the door and ordered coffee, then took her sweet time reading the menu to stretch out her visit. Finally, on Darlene’s third visit to the table, she ordered bacon, scrambled eggs, and hash browns.

  The food was out in a flash, and it looked great. A generous pile of hash browns consumed most of the plate, along with scrambled eggs and thick strips of bacon. Bella was ravenous but forced herself to take dainty bites with long breaks in between as she kept her eyes trained on the entrance. She took tiny sips of her coffee, since she didn’t want to risk missing Alyssa during a restroom break.

  As the wall clock ticked past nine, Bella lost hope. She had eaten almost everything on her plate, and Darlene’s “can I getcha anything else” was beginning to sound strained.

  A large man in a suit walked in and scoped out the dining room. He wore an earpiece with a coiled cord that disappeared into his black leather jacket. Security. Next, someone with a camera arrived. Soon, the diner was buzzing.

  “What’s going on?” Bella asked Darlene, feigning ignorance.

  “We got a politician coming.” Darlene rolled her eyes. “They love this place.”

  “I can imagine.” As Darlene walked off, Bella slid to the edge of her chair and angled herself toward the door.

  A thin, nervous-looking young woman entered and held the door open. Alyssa followed, wearing a gray pantsuit and heels. She smiled, showcasing her bright white teeth. An entourage of reporters entered behind her while two photographers jumped in front, bulbs flashing.

  Bella stood, but one of the photographers blocked her path. Damn.

  Alyssa leaned in to speak to an older couple. She placed a manicured hand on the man’s shoulder, and then she said something to the woman. They all laughed.

  Ha ha. I’m a lying, cheating fraud. Vote for me. Bella fidgeted as Alyssa turned to chat with a few servers—not Darlene, who had steered clear of the entire scene. Finally, Alyssa stepped forward, and the photographer moved to the side.

  Bella pounced, reaching Alyssa in two quick strides. “Hi.”

  Alyssa smiled. Up close, her makeup was dark, almost garish, with foundation so thick, she lacked visible pores. “Hello. What’s your name, honey?”

  This was it, her one and only chance. But there were cameras in their faces and reporters so close she could smell them. Her heart pounding, she leaned in and whispered, “I work with Nadine Bayani, and she told me what really happened.”

  Alyssa’s fake smile collapsed. She waved the reporters away. “Give us some space, please. This young woman would like to share her story in private.” She ripped off her clip-on microphone and shoved it at a nearby staffer.

  The crowd ebbed back but only slightly. A photographer aimed his lens at Bella.

  Alyssa grabbed her by the arm and hustled her into a corner. She signaled to one of her security guards, who crossed his arms and inserted himself between Alyssa and the reporters.

  Venomous blue eyes flashed. “Who are you? What the hell are you talking about?”

  Bella gathered her courage. “My name is Bella Clarke. I work at Overstock Oasis with Nadine. She told me it was you who made the deal with Atlas. She had nothing to do with it. I want to know why you let her go to prison for something she didn’t do.”

  “She’s lying. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “No.” Bella’s voice was soft but certain. “Nadine isn’t lying. She didn’t even want to tell me, but I figured it out.”

  “You figured it out. Right.” Alyssa scoffed. “What are you, a professional checkout girl? You didn’t figure out anything.”

  Bella’s cheeks burned. “I may not be a genius, but I know Nadine. She wouldn’t do something like that. And I’m going to prove it.” It was an empty threat, but it sounded good.

  Alyssa leaned in. “You tell Nadine that if she doesn’t stop telling lies about me, the past two years will seem like fucking Disney World compared to what I’ll put her through next.”

  Evil witch! Bella opened her mouth to threaten her right back, but Alyssa spun around and returned to her entourage.

  Alyssa whispered something to the security guy, who turned to glare at Bella. Then she moved to greet a family at another table, her smile back in place.

  Bella stood in the corner with her mouth open until Tom Rossi pushed through the throngs to join her.

  “What just happened?” he asked.

  “Um, she got mad at me. I can’t talk about it.” Bella glanced at her table, which was still surrounded by reporters.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were a big fan.”

  “I used to be. I’m not anymore.”

  “Why did you really drive here all the way from Virginia?”

  Bella shook her head.

  “Come on, I’m a reporter. I know when something’s up.”

  “I’m sorry. I really can’t talk about it. But I appreciate you telling me where she’d be this morning.”

  Tom shrugged. “If you change your mind, give me a call.” He pulled out a business card.

  “Okay.” Bella stuffed the card in her pocket, still watching Alyssa, who slowly made her way to the back of the diner.

  The reporters followed, clearing Bella’s path back to her table.

  She turned to Tom. “I’d better get out of here. Thanks again for the tip.”

  When she reached her table, she grabbed her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. She caught Darlene’s eye, pointed to the cash, and hurried outside.

  Safely in her car, she yelled out, “Holy fucking shit!”

  Bella now knew two things for sure. First, Alyssa Jackson was guilty as sin. Second, it was time to go home.

  Chapter 28

  Nadine shook her phone in frustration. She was cross-legged on the couch, trying to browse apartment listings on her phone’s mobile browser, but the five-year-old device crashed every time she clicked a link.

  Normally, she used Bella’s laptop. Nadine even knew the password by heart—but she assumed her laptop privileges had ended along with their friendship. Besides, she probably couldn’t even find the damn thing—it was usually shoved in some preposterous location like a basket of laundry.

  Her head shot up at the sound of keys unlocking the door. Bella.

  Bella walked in, rolling a suitcase behind her. She wore yoga pants, a wrinkled gray T-shirt, and a pair of cat’s-eye sunglasses rimmed in neon pink. Her hair spilled from a ponytail on top of her head.

  “Where were you?” Nadine asked.

  “Um, South Carolina.” She pushed the sunglasses up to her forehead.

  “What? Why?”

  Bella shot a longing look at the bathroom. “Sorry, I’ve had to pee for like two hours. I really want to talk to you, but I need a minute. Okay? Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  As if she had anywhere to go. Nadine racked her brain, trying to figure out what the hell was in South Carolina. Bella had never mentioned a connection to the state.