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PROLOGUE

GINA ROYAL

Wichita, Kansas

Gina never asked about the garage

That thought would keep her awake every night for years after, pulsing hot against her eyelids I should have asked Should have known But she’d never asked, she didn’t know, and in the end, that hat destroyed her

She normally would have been home at three in the afternoon, but her husband had called to say he had an eency at work and she’d have to fetch Brady and Lily from school It was no bother, really—there was still plenty of ti dinner He’d been so lovely and apologetic about having to disrupt her schedule Mel really could be the best,to make it up to him; she’d already decided that She’d cook his favorite dish for dinner: liver and onions, served with a nice pinot noir she already had out on the counter Then a faht, a movie on the couch with the kids Maybe that new superhero h Mel was careful about what they watched Lily would curl into Gina’s side, a warm bundle, and Brady would end up sprawled across his dad’s lap with his head up on the arm of the sofa Only bendable kids could be co in the world, fa Gina hoped that he wouldn’t o out and tinker around in his workshop this evening

Normal life Comfortable life Not perfect, of course Nobody had a perfect e, did they? But Gina was satisfied, at least most of the time

She’d been gone froh to race to school, pick up the kids, and hurry hoht as she turned the corner and saw the flashing lights on her block was Oh God, what if someone’s house is on fire? She was properly horrified at the idea, but in the next, selfish second, she thought, Dinner’s going to be so late It was petty but exasperating

The street was completely blocked off She counted three police cars behind the barricade, their flashing light bars bathing the nearly identical ranch houses in blood red and bruise blue An ambulance and a fire truck crouched farther down the street, apparently idle

“Mom?” That was seven-year-old Brady, as in the back seat “Mo? Is that our house?” He sounded thrilled “Is it on fire?”

Gina slowed the car to a crawl and tried to take in the scene: a churned-up lawn, a flattened bed of irises, crushed bushes The battered corpse of a utter

Their mailbox Their lawn Their house

At the end of that trail of destruction was astea brick wall of their garage—Mel’s workshop—and leaned drunkenly on a pile of debris that had once been part of their solid brick ho so firm, so solid, so normal The vomited pile of bricks and broken Sheetrock looked obscene It looked vulnerable

She iined the SUV’s path as it jumped the curb, took out the e As she did, her foot finally hit the brake of her own vehicle, hard enough that she felt the jolt all the way through her spine

“Mom!” Brady yelled, almost in her ear, and she instinctively put out a hand to hush hier seat, ten-year-old Lily had yanked her earbuds out and leaned forward Her lips parted as she saw the da Her eyes were huge with shock

“Sorry,” Gina said, hardly aware of what she was saying “So, baby Lily? Are you okay?”

“What’s happening?” Lily asked

“Are you okay?”

“I’?”

Gina didn’t answer Her attention was pulled back to the house She felt strangely raw and exposed, looking at the dae Her home always seemed so safe to her, such a fortress, and noas breached Security had proved a lie, no stronger than bricks and wood and drywall

Neighbors had poured out onto the street to gawk and gossip, which made it all so much worse Even old Mrs Millson, the retired schoolteacher who rarely left her house She was the neighborhood gossip and ru on the private lives of everyone within her line of sight She wore a faded housecoat and leaned heavily on a walker, and her day nurse stood beside her They both looked fascinated

A policeman approached Gina’s vehicle, and she quickly rolled down herand gave hietic smile