by Sarah Zettel
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Sarah Zettel
Cover copyright © 2020 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Zettel, Sarah, author.
Title: A mother’s lie / Sarah Zettel.
Description: First edition. | New York : Grand Central Publishing, a
division of Hachette Book Group, Inc., 2020.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019041855 | ISBN 9781538760925 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781538760949 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Mothers and daughters–Fiction. | Family secrets–Fiction. | GSAFD: Suspense fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3576.E77 M68 2020 | DDC 813/.54–dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019041855
ISBNs: 978-1-5387-6092-5 (trade paperback), 978-1-5387-6094-9 (ebook)
E3-20200306-DANF-ORI
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
PROLOGUE
PART ONE: SHOW AND TELL CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
PART TWO: TRUTH OR DARE CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
PART THREE: HIDE-AND-SEEK CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
CHAPTER SIXTY
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
Acknowledgments
Discover More
About the Author
Praise for The Other Sister
Also by Sarah Zettel
To Tim and Alex
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Evil is not the illegality, or the magnitude of the sin, but the consistency of the sin.
—M. Scott Peck, People of the Lie
PROLOGUE
When that first child is on the way, every woman wonders, What kind of mother will I be? Beth Fraser had plenty of reason to wonder, but she didn’t really find out until her daughter, Dana, was four years old.
They were still living in San Francisco and had gone to Bloomingdale’s, the big one on Market Street. Beth had a partners’ meeting about the new fund for Lumination Ventures. There were problems with the suit she had ordered. At the time, this had seemed important.
The woman behind the counter was slower than molasses in January. Beth demanded to speak to her manager. The charge was not accepted, the alterations had not been completed as promised, and they were going to get this sorted out.
Beth had told Dana to stand right here. She promised Dana a trip to the Disney Store just as soon as they’d straightened out this one thing.
The manager came over. Beth looked down. Dana was not there.
Beth did not remember anything after that for a while.
Dana remembered a bit more. Not everything, but more.
For instance, she remembered promising she would stand right here so Mommy could talk to the store lady. She remembered feeling that if she could look out the big front window, maybe she could see the Disney Store. She remembered the idea that right here kind of included the window, because she could see the window and Mommy at the same time. She remembered not really moving. Just drifting. She was still right here. Mommy was arguing with the lady behind the counter. She could hear them. She was still right here.
“Hey there.”
She remembered looking up to see a man in a gray suit and blue overcoat. His hair was slicked back in dark stripes against his pink-and-tan scalp. She remembered he had very round blue eyes and plump, pink hands.
“You lost?”
Dana shook her head.
“Where’s your mommy, then?”
Dana looked around. Suddenly she wasn’t sure. Mommy was by the counter. That was her dark jacket, but that wasn’t her head. She didn’t wear that hat. She was right here, wasn’t she?
“Oh, wait,” said the man. “I see her out there. Come on.”
He took Dana’s hand, and all at once she was walking with him. She wasn’t sure how that happened.
They were going out the sliding door now, and he was right behind her, bumping into her back and kind of pushing her along. Then, they were out on the sidewalk, heading up the hill, and his big, soft hand was holding hers and he was saying, “Now, where did Mommy go? Oh! There she is. Come on!” He gave her hand a little shake and also squeezed her fingers. Dana craned her neck, trying to see what he saw. He was pulling her along too fast. His hot, damp hand hurt as he squeezed her fingers and sang, “There she is! Come on! Keep up, sweet
ie!”
Then the world spun, and the sidewalk slammed against her head and Dana saw stars.
She sat up, not sure how she got onto the ground. The man was on the ground too, and Mommy was there. She was screaming—bad, bad words, louder than sirens, louder than anything. A lot of people were yelling.
The man was bleeding, and Mommy was kicking him. Hard. His head was bleeding. Bright red smeared his hot, pink hands. He was crying.
Mommy kicked him again, right in the teeth. His head snapped back.
A big lady with sunglasses swept Dana into her arms.
The man with the pink hands wasn’t moving anymore. Mommy turned around and walked up to the lady and to Dana.
“Give me back my daughter.”
The lady handed Dana across. Mommy wrapped Dana in her arms and they sat down on the curb. Mommy held Dana on her lap. She was breathing hard. Dana could feel her chest heaving under her jacket. Her eyes were straight ahead. She was shaking all over, and tears streamed down her face.
Dana wanted to hug her. She knew she should hug her, but she couldn’t. Not while her eyes were so blank like that. It was like she wasn’t even her mother anymore.
Beth didn’t know what was happening inside her daughter’s mind. All she knew was that somebody had tried to take Dana away, and she stopped them. Of course, the cops were on their way now. There would be lots of cops, and eventually lawyers. There’d be questions to answer and lies to tell. So very many lies. She needed to have them all lined up and ready to go.
But Dana was safe now. That was all that really mattered. Beth could handle everything else.
She always had.
PART ONE
SHOW AND TELL
CHAPTER ONE
“Time?” called Dana. She lifted the pan full of vegetable omelet off the burner and shook it to make sure the mass of egg and zucchini was loose.
Beth held up her phone. “Thirteen minutes, forty-four seconds. You’re never gonna make it!”
“Watch me!” It was down to the wire in the Fraser kitchen’s morning marathon—could Dana make an edible breakfast in fifteen minutes or less?
Dana shook the pan again and eyed the distance to the ceiling.
“You’re cleaning up when you miss!” Beth reminded her. The game of the fifteen-minute breakfast was their way of combining Dana’s love of cooking with the morning rush that never seemed to get any easier. Beth could not stand to be late, and Dana loved to show off, so it all worked.
Dana gave the pan a swift up-down jerk. The entire golden disk of egg and vegetables launched into the air, flipped, and came down. Dana bent her knees and held out the pan and—
SPLAT!
—caught the whole thing.
“Yes!” She pumped her fist in the air. “Get the plates!”
Beth pushed the colorful Fiestaware across the breakfast bar so Dana could slide segments of omelet onto the dishes. She sprinkled feta cheese on top of each plate, along with a handful of tomato chunks, and dropped the grilled bagels next to them.
“And done!”
“Fourteen minutes, fifty-three seconds,” Beth announced.
Dana threw both hands into the air. “Team Dangerface for the win!”
They both pulled their high stools up to the bar and tucked in. Dana glugged her orange juice. Beth poured a cup of coffee from the carafe. The speakers were cranked up, streaming a pulse-surging mix of Beyoncé, Adele, and Alicia Keys.
People who saw Beth and Dana together knew instantly they were mother and daughter. Beth had no idea where her ancestors had really come from. Her parents had regularly claimed to be everything from black Irish to Armenian. They had, however, gifted her and Dana with the similar oval faces, blunt noses, sandy skin, and thick brown hair. Time and determination had hardened Beth’s hazel eyes, but she still smiled easily, although that smile could be a disguise as often as it was a revelation.
If Beth was an expert at hiding in plain sight, Dana was brash and loud and determined to be herself, even when she wasn’t sure who that might be from day to day. Currently, she sported an uneven bob that ran down to her jawline on one side and barely covered her ear on the other. She had three piercings in one ear and four in the other. Her earrings never matched.
Dana’s most striking feature, though, was her eyes. The technical term was heterochromia iridis, meaning her eyes were two different colors—the left one, green, the right one, brown. Dana had flirted with the idea of hiding them a couple of years ago. Since then, she’d gone the exact opposite direction to emphasize them with mascara and shadow.
“So, last day of freshman year, huh?” Beth dug into the steaming omelet.
“Halle-effing-lujah,” Dana mumbled around her mouthful.
“Anything I need to know about today? And, by the way, this is really good.”
“Thanks, and, um, no, I don’t think so.”
Beth eyed her daughter as she took another gulp of coffee. “As an experienced parent and professional lie detector, I am qualified to tell you that’s a suspicious hesitation.”
“I hate it when you do that.”
“I know. So, what happened?”
“Nothing!” Dana tore her bagel half in two. “Except you might be getting an email about my oral presentation in English.”
“Why?”
Dana huffed out a sigh. “Cuz when I was giving the report, I maybe kind of said that Holden Caulfield was a self-involved asshole and he should have jumped off that cliff he wanted to save all the kids from, like they wouldn’t know it was there in the first place, and it seemed pretty obvious Salinger was full of horseshit.”
“Uh-huh. And what did Mr. Kennedy have to say?”
“That I should please remember that horseshit was not a current vocabulary word, and so I said fine, Salinger was full of bullshit.”
That was when the phone rang. Not Beth’s cell. The landline in the kitchen.
“Do not say, ‘Saved by the bell,’” said Dana as soon as Beth opened her mouth.
Beth just checked the clock. Seven thirty exactly. They both needed to be out the door in less than fifteen minutes. A well-known fact in some circles.
So, I wonder who this could possibly be?
Beth braced herself and picked up the receiver. “Good morning, Doug.”
“Hi, Beth, it’s…Oh, ha-ha,” laughed Dana’s father stiffly. “How did you know?”
“It’s my superpower.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why Gutierrez pays you the big bucks, right?” Officially, Beth’s title at Lumination Ventures was vice president, but unofficially, she was the chief bullshit navigator. “Anyway.” Doug sighed. “I’m glad I caught you. I was afraid you might have left already.”
You hoped I had left already, and that’s why you called the landline. “What’s going on?”
“Well, unfortunately—and this is not my fault. I really tried to get this moved, I swear, but…”
Beth stopped listening. She’d heard what she needed to. This wasn’t exactly the first time Doug had called to wriggle out of a promise he’d made Dana.
“…I know this is the last second, and I should have called earlier. I know, I know…”
Exactly when did you degenerate into such a cliché, Doug?
“…I was really looking forward to this weekend…”
You were the one who always talked about living an authentic life. That really should have tipped me off right there.
“…and I just kept hoping things would work out…”
And the big ask is coming in three…two…one…
“…So, you’ll tell her I’m really sorry?”
“She’s right here, Doug. You can tell her yourself.”
“Beth, I…”
“Dana, it’s your father.” Beth passed the phone to Dana.
“Yeah, I noticed,” Dana said to her. Then, into the receiver she said, “What’s going on, Dad?”
Dana listened and scooped up a piece of cold egg with the last
of her bagel. Beth leaned back against the kitchen island and watched her daughter’s face slowly closing down while Doug chattered and apologized and promised, all from a safe distance.
At least my father would lie to my face. The thought dropped into place without warning. Beth looked away, until she was sure she had her shock hidden.
“Yeah, Dad,” said Dana. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too. No, it’s okay. I got invited to an end-of-year party at Kimi’s…Yeah, so, you’re right—it all worked out. Yeah. Say hi to Susan for me. Here’s Mom.”
Dana handed Beth the receiver and immediately dug into the last of her omelet.
“I really am sorry, Beth,” said Doug. “Will you make sure Dana knows that? Please?”
Something about the particular pleading note in his voice pricked at Beth’s awareness. “Are you all right, Doug? You sound”—worse than usual—“worried.”
“What? Yeah. Fine, but, um, I don’t want to keep you.”
“No, of course not. Have a good day.”
Beth hung up and went back to her cooling breakfast.
“Sorry, Dangerface.” The nickname had come after a childhood accident. Dana tripped on the escalator and had to get five stitches in her forehead. She absolutely refused to wear a bandage, and instead ran around the house growling and shouting, “I got my danger face on!”
“It was gonna happen.” Dana shrugged. “I don’t know why he even bothers.”
So he can tell himself he tried. But Dana already knew that.
Beth had promised herself from the start she would not get between Dana and her father, especially once they moved out to Chicago. She’d always known Doug was a hot mess and not good for much beyond romantic weekends and grandiose pronouncements. That was why she didn’t marry him, even when she came up pregnant.
Especially when I came up pregnant.
Even so, she’d never expected Doug to treat his daughter first like a secret and then like an embarrassment.
“You can always say no when he starts making plans, Dana.”
“Yeah. I guess.” She smashed a chunk of tomato flat with her fork. “Maybe he’d like that better.”
“It’s just…you don’t need to make things easier on him just because he’s your father. That’s not your job.”