Read Cross My Heart, Hope to Die for Free Online Page B

dangerous war zone that was no place for a child, or a fashion model working the runways in Paris. But Becky was so ordinary, plain. Damaged.
    “There are more in the attic, if you’d like to see them,” Mr. Mercer offered.
    “I would,” Emma said, flipping through the photographs again. She paused on a picture of a junior-high-age Becky scowling playfully from a tent, perhaps on a camping trip. “She’s really pretty.”
    The Becky she’d known had been beautiful, with her big blue eyes and milky white skin. But there was a brittleness to her, an unease that kept most people at a distance, as though some tangible sadness clung to her. Emma remembered being at a playground once when a man in a basketball jersey had tried to flirt with her mother. Becky had stared silently at him from within the depths of her long, loose hair until he’d moved nervously away.
    Mr. Mercer nodded as the waitress set down their appetizers. “She is. She looks a lot like her mother. So do you, for that matter.”
    Emma could see it: All three generations of Mercer women had the same eyes, the same cheekbones. In one of the pictures, Becky sat side by side with her mother at the end of a dock. Mrs. Mercer’s smile looked forced, while Becky just stared blankly at the camera. She looked as if she might be around Emma’s age.
    “When was the last time Mom saw Becky?” she asked, picking up her fork to spear a piece of lettuce from her salad.
    Mr. Mercer dipped a bite of calamari into marinara sauce, frowning. “Not long after she left you with us, Sutton.” He sighed. “Becky had a way of hitting her mom just where it would hurt her the most.”
    Emma swallowed a crouton. “Shouldn’t we tell her that Becky’s been in town? It’s been a long time. Maybe things have changed.”
    Mr. Mercer shook his head. “I know it’s difficult, but we have to keep this a secret. Things haven’t been easy for any of us, but your mom has taken it especially hard. Promise me you won’t tell her.”
    “I promise,” Emma said softly. She hesitated, biting her lip, then forged ahead. “I think I saw Becky the other day. She drove past me, but I know it was her.”
    To her astonishment, he nodded. “I guess I’m not surprised by that.”
    “You’re not? You mean she’s hung around here before, spying?”
    The waitress swooped in at that very moment to ask if everything was okay. “Fine,” Mr. Mercer said, giving her a clipped smile. When she vanished, he turned back to Emma. “She’s come back into town a few times.”
    “She clearly saw me.” Emma felt the hurt on the surface of her skin, like a physical wound. “Why did she drive off? Why did she pretend I didn’t exist?”
    Mr. Mercer sighed heavily. “Becky’s life has never been easy.”
    “Sure it has.” Emma suddenly felt angry. She grabbed the pile of pictures and started to flip through them. “Horseback riding. Dance lessons. Presents at Christmas. Ski vacation, beach vacation, Disneyland vacation. She had …” Emma swallowed hard. She’d almost said more than I ever did . “She had everything anyone could want. Don’t make excuses for her.”
    She’d managed to keep her voice from climbing higher, from echoing through the entire dining room, but it shook dangerously. She pinched her forearm under the table to hold back her tears. Mr. Mercer’s eyes were sad behind his glasses, and for a moment he seemed older and more tired than Emma had ever seen him.
    He reached across the table and took her hand. “Sutton, believe me, I know how you feel. Your mom and I have never stopped talking about this. Wondering if we could have done more for her, wondering if any of her … of her behavior is our fault. But some people just have a hard time in the world, no matter how many advantages they have, no matter how loved they are. Someday you’ll understand that. Not everybody is as strong as you are.”
    Emma pulled her hand from his. “You’re talking like she’s