Chapter One

At seven A.M., Daisy Tucker paused at the foot of the stairs to smell the laundry she held in her arms. She had gotten up an hour early to wash her daughter's clothes, throwing an extra sheet of fabric softener into the dryer the way Sage liked it.

Mounting the stairs, Daisy wondered why her heart was pounding. She felt nervous, as if she were applying for a new job instead of waking up her sixteen-year-old with a pile of clean clothes. The house was quiet, flooded with thin morning light. While waiting for the laundry to finish, Daisy had gone to her spare-room jewelry studio to work on a bracelet that she hoped to finish that afternoon. But she had been too upset to concentrate.

Daisy and Sage lived alone. There had been no witnesses last night to hear Daisy screaming like a banshee, see her pulling her own hair like a caricature of a maniac. There had been no one present to watch Sage sit back in her inflatable chair, messy dark hair falling across her face, observing her frustrated mother with cool detachment in her wide green eyes, no one to watch that composure crumble under Daisy's words.

Sage had been wearing the clothes Daisy now held in her arms, and they had been mud-stained and sopping wet. She had been out with Ben Davis, her boyfriend, until midnight, even though she had promised to be home by nine. They had gone canoeing and capsized. In late October, Silver Bay, Connecticut was frosty and cold, and all Daisy had been able to think about was how they might have drowned in the dark.

The phone rang. Still holding the clothes, Daisy walked to her bedroom. Wondering who it could be, ready to be stern to Ben, she picked up.

"Hello?" she said.

"How's my wayward niece?"

"Sleeping," Daisy said, relaxing at the sound of her sister's voice. "But it was touch and go last night. When she walked in all soaked and bedraggled, I wanted to kill her."

" 'Kill'?" Hathaway asked. "That seems like a strong word. Perhaps you mean 'maim.' "

"Oh, Hath," Daisy said, almost laughing. Talking to her sister could break the tension like nothing else. "She was bad, but I was worse. The mad twin took over. I was standing over her, slavering—truly, foam was dripping from my mouth—"

"Did you ground her until college?"

"Yes, and I told her only stupid girls go out canoeing with boys until midnight on school nights," Daisy said, cringing as she remembered her words, her tone of voice. "Stupid, slutty girls."

"I hope you told her she could never see Ben again," Hathaway said, knowing that, last night notwithstanding, Daisy liked Ben. He was polite, serious about his schoolwork, too mild to ignite any real passion in Sage.

"Of course I did." Daisy stared miserably at the clothes she held, knowing that the hour of truth was at hand.

"She did come home late," Hathaway said. "On a school night. Plus, there was ice on my birdbath this morning. Just a thin coating, but still. It was cold out—no wonder you lost it."

"I hate that I called her slutty."

"No, you just compared her to slutty girls. That's different."

"I feel awful." Standing over her sulking teenager, looking into those huge eyes, Daisy had felt as if her heart could break. She was an overprotective mother, and she knew it. Sage's twin brother, Jake, had disappeared when he was three, and that fact informed every decision Daisy had made ever since regarding Sage. All Daisy had ever wanted was to protect her children. With a slim body, full mouth, and wide, knowing eyes, Sage had lost the last vestiges of babyhood. Still. Daisy had looked straight past those features to see the infant she and Sage's father had brought home from the hospital sixteen years ago.

"I don't want her to get hurt," Daisy said.

"I know," Hathaway said gently.

"But I said some awful things. I could see it in her eyes. I have to go wake her up now. I did her laundry, and now I want to sit on the edge of her bed."

"And tell her you love her."

"And everyone makes mistakes."

Copyright © 2001 by Luanne Rice