. . “He’s here!” Kate dropped the lace panel at the window and ran to the mirror, where she pursed her rouged lips and arranged a curl of her auburn bangs just so. Eleven-year-old Lilly didn’t know who the man was, just that her mother had met him when they were in Springfield four months earlier and that Kate was “completely besotted” with him. “Hide, Lilly,” Kate said, smoothing her palms over the soft yellow princess dress she’d chosen to impress this special man. “And for heaven’s sake, don’t make a sound.” Lilly dropped to the floor, her dress billowing out as she slipped beneath the iron bedstead, where she’d tossed a quilt in anticipation of a long stay. There was a sharp rap at the door. At her mother’s call to enter, it opened with a squeak. “Kate!” the masculine voice said. “You look divine.” Kate’s throaty laughter filled the room. “So do you.” The door clicked shut, and Lilly heard nothing for several seconds but the sounds of kissing and rustling fabric.
