Brighton whispered into her phone. “I was terrified you’d screen me.” “I’d never screen you. Why are we whispering?” Kira whispered. Brighton tried to figure out how to explain. She felt so overwhelmed with panic and suspicion and anticipation and, underneath all of that, a stubborn sense of hope that this would turn out to be some crazy misunderstanding. “It’s Genevieve.” Kira gasped. “Colin’s Genevieve?” “No. Jake has a Genevieve, too.” Brighton sagged against the side of the house as she summarized the porch ambush. “What should I do?” “Come over,” Kira instructed. “Right now.” “I can’t.” Brighton rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “She’s still here.” “Can you see her? I thought you said you were hiding out.” “I am, but I would have heard her car on the gravel if she’d left.”
