Prologue
Van, aged 6
It was a ten-minute walk, and she knew it by heart, even though it was her first day of school. She needed to go out the front door, turn on her kicking foot, and walk toward the tree whose leaves were as red as her mom’s favorite lipstick. Past the DeBoone’s house, whose porch was always sparkling thanks to Marnie DeBoone’s constant scrubbing, then along the sidewalk until she reached the corner.
This was the part where Van always ran. All the kids said that Old Mr. Shawson’s house was haunted by his long-dead wife who had wanted children and would steal any who stepped on the lawn. Last year, Richie had pushed her onto the grass there, and she’d wet herself. Only a little, but she’d hated it just the same.
Only babies wet themselves, and she was six-years-old, too old to be a baby. But she ran anyway, not wanting Mrs. Shawson’s ghost to stop her from getting to school on time.
The gates to the elementary school were open, the yard full of small children clinging to their parents’ hands, oversized backpacks stuck to their spines like turtle shells. Van walked inside, pushing past legs and bags and sniffing children until she reached the door where Mrs. Mason was standing, talking to parents as she held a large brass bell loosely in her hands.
“Hello,” Mrs. Mason said, frowning as she looked down. “Savannah, isn’t it?”
Van nodded.
“Where’s your mommy? She’s allowed in the school yard on the first day of school. Why don’t you go and get her?”
“My mom’s sick.” Van shrugged, as though it didn’t matter one bit.
Mrs. Mason blinked. “Oh. Okay.” It took her a moment to find a smile. “We’ll be going inside in a moment. In the meantime, why don’t you wait here.” She turned back to the mother she’d been talking to. “Tanner looks so much like Grayson. Is he as much trouble as his big brother?”
The pretty mom laughed. “Not yet. Though Cam and Logan keep egging him on. I know you had your hands full with them last year.”
“Well, at least I’ll get a break before Rebecca starts school.”
The lady smiled. “You’ll probably need it.”
“Speaking of breaks, I need to ring the bell and take the children in.” Mrs. Mason checked her watch then lifted the brass bell up, clanging it three times. A group of boys who were shouting and playing in the corner of the yard ran over, one of them barging straight into Van.
She stumbled, clutching onto the stained rucksack she’d found in the bottom of her mom’s closet a few days earlier. Two warm, small hands reached out to stop her from falling. Wide brown eyes were staring right at her, so close she could see herself reflected in them.
By habit, her hands curled into fists.
“Sorry,” the boy whispered.
“Tanner Hartson, you can’t go knocking girls over on your first day.” His mom ruffled his hair affectionately. “Are you okay, Savannah?” she asked. Her smile immediately made Van feel better.
Van nodded, her fingers slowly unfurling. “I’m okay,” she said, as the other children pushed past them, heading into the classroom.
And she was. For then. But that was only the first time Tanner Hartson would knock her off her feet.
Chapter One
The first thing Van Butler noticed was the silence. She’d forgotten about that, and it took her ears a moment to get accustomed to it as she climbed out of the car and looked at the neglected bungalow in front of her. Home. That’s what this place had been for the first twenty years of her life, though for the past eight it had been Mom and Craig’s, and somehow that had been easier. It hadn’t been Van’s job anymore to keep the grass mowed or the stoop swept or any of the other things that Craig had taken on. For the first time in her life her only responsibility had been to herself, and it had been glorious.
She smoothed out the creases on her cream skirt, the humidity already making her feel a little less pristine. Her pale blonde hair was neatly tied back in a low-pony tail, her white sleeveless blouse holding its shape in spite of the early summer heat. She took care of her appearance, it was the first thing people saw, after all. From an early age, she’d learned that people judged from appearances.
“Savannah Butler? Is that you?”
Van turned her head to the right. She hadn’t noticed her mom’s neighbor there. Mrs. DeBoone was kneeling on a bright red gardening pad, a scarf covering her hair and canvas gloves covering her hands as she planted brightly colored flowers into earthy beds.
“Hello, Mrs. Deboone.” Van formed an appropriate smile on her face.
“You here to see your momma?”
Van nodded. “That’s right.”
“Did you hear Craig’s gone? Went off with the girl who works in the gas station.” She dropped her voice. “Your mom and him were fighting like cats and dogs a couple of weeks ago.”
Yeah, Van knew. She also knew that Craig was already living with the woman, some twenty miles from here. Her little sister, Zoe, had told her during a quiet, tear-filled phone call last week. That’s why she was here. Because she was needed.
Thank god she’d saved up enough from her freelance work to take a break for a while.
“Sorry if they disturbed you,” Van said, shooting the old lady a quick smile. She walked up the path, her heels catching in the cracks. Craig had only been gone two weeks yet the bungalow already looked like it was missing him. The grass that lined the pathway was up to her calves.
Mrs. DeBoone picked up the empty plant pots, slotting them one into the other, before she slowly pushed herself up to standing. “I should go in, before my knees give up.” She gave Van a smile. “Give my regards to your mother.” She glanced at Van’s mom’s bungalow and back to Van. “And I’m glad you’re back. For Zoe’s sake.”
She shuffled up the pathway. Van knew without a doubt that she was planning to call her friends to tell them Savannah Butler was back in town. That’s what happened in places like Hartson’s Creek. People filled the silence with gossip, because it was better than sitting alone.
Maybe that’s why she’d moved to Richmond as soon as her mom and Craig got married, back when Van was twenty-years-old. Zoe had been two then, pretty as a picture, with her chubby face and golden hair that matched Van’s.
In so many ways, Craig had been her savior. Taking care of her mom and loving Zoe as his own so that Van didn’t have to worry about them. For the first time in years she’d been able to breathe. To not have to anticipate her mom’s dizzying mood swings, or wonder whether the empty whiskey bottle in the sink was the second or third one of the week.
Life had been good, for the most part, since then. Yeah, there had been sad times. Particularly whenever she thought of the things she’d lost. But there were good times, as well. She was good at her job – working as a freelance event planner in the state capital. And she earned enough to not only live in a pretty apartment, but to live a good life and save money, too.
She’d always been obsessive about saving. Maybe somewhere deep inside she’d known her mom was a ticking time bomb. It was a matter of when, not if, she’d detonate.