She snapped her slim thighs closed, her face burning. She had forgotten entirely that she wasn’t wearing any.

* * * *

Darla put the dress back and hurriedly pulled on her clothes. She stopped in the bathroom to smooth her hair into a ponytail and wash her face, still wet, and gave herself a good talking-to in order to stop the tears. There was no way she was going to go downstairs crying. Now she was putting on her coat, and she smiled, pleased, as her father helped her while she pulled her hair out from under the collar.

“Lee, did you pay her? Darla, thank you for watching your sister,” Irene murmured from the couch where she was lying with her arm thrown over her eyes.

“Half-sister!” Darla hissed, surprising both of them and herself.

“Money’s in your coat pocket, sweetie,” her father said, looking sideways at her. “And you did a fine job, too. I told you she would, Irene.” There was a snort from the couch.

“Come on, let’s get going,” he said.

She followed him out the door, shouldering her backpack with all her school work and a change of clothes for the weekend she wouldn’t be needing anymore. Tears stung her eyes again at that thought. The two-seater Jaguar was still warm from their ride home. Darla turned the radio station first thing. He always let her. She turned it up loud. She didn’t want to talk.

When they pulled into the driveway half an hour later, the house was dark and her mother’s car was gone. Her father swore under his breath and Darla looked at him sharply. He grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, hitting the “talk” button. She heard the phone ringing, and the answering machine with her own voice saying, “You’ve reached the Somers residence, we’re not here right now…”

“You didn’t call her?” Darla sighed.

“I called her,” he assured her, his mouth a thin line. “She said she’d be here.