No Accident by Emily Blake Page A

shoulders shaking as she sobbed. It was so strange that both of them would break down on the same day. She wanted to believe their feelings were true, but a voice inside her whispered, “Beware.”
    Like a stinging slap, the realization that she was still being toyed with hit her full in the face. How could she have been so naive? Her mother and grandmother had taken the game up another notch and were yanking her emotions with their fake waterworks. And until this moment she’d been buying it!
    Sitting up in bed, Alison balled her hands into fists. Not anymore , she told herself. Not for asingle second. She was sick of being played. Neither her mother nor her grandmother could be trusted. If she wanted the real truth, she needed to stop waiting for them to tell it to her and figure out what it was for herself. And if that meant playing her own game, doing her own snooping, and lying, so be it.
    The tug-of-war was over. Alison had chosen a side: her own.

Chapter Fifteen
    Tom stepped up onto a pedestal and held his arms out at his sides. He did not smile at his reflection in the full-length mirrors surrounding him. There were so many mirrors in the room that the place could have been a fun house—except Tom was not having any fun.
    A woman who looked like she had been poured into her cream-colored suit ran a measuring tape down each of Tom’s arms and around his chest, taking down numbers for his wedding tuxedo. “Is this your son?” she asked Deirdre.
    Deirdre giggled and beamed at Tom. “Almost,” she squeaked.
    Tom clenched his teeth. In your dreams , he thought. His dad might need a new wife, but he did not need a new mother. And even if he did, Deirdre could never play that role—she was just another Debbie. He forced a smile as he stepped back down. It was taking all of the self-control he had not to make waves, to play nice and keep his dad from getting angry. Was it worth it? Tom wasn’t sure.
    And how did he get roped into coming with Deirdre to the bridal boutique in the first place? Zoey had gotten out of it, as usual. Sometimes Tom wished he could operate as slyly as his sister.
    With Tom’s measurements out of the way, Deirdre stepped onto the little platform to try on veils. “You like this one, Tommy?” She whirled around, her face draped in pink tulle.
    â€œYeah, sure.” Tom nodded. Something heavier—like a plastic garbage bag—might be better, but at least her face was covered. Tom picked his jacket up off the white velvet couch and put it on. He dug his hands into the pockets, thinking maybe he should wait outside. His thumb jabbed into something sharp, a pointof paper. He pulled out a note. It was folded tightly, with the edges tucked in. Just like the last one.
    This was not the second note he’d gotten, or even the third. Somebody had been slipping him notes almost every day since the first one. Always tightly folded. Always written in purple block letters. Always cryptic. And definitely for him. He had an admirer. And whoever she was, she knew how to keep a secret.
    Unfolding the note slowly, Tom read: t— YOU’RE SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE REST. THAT’S WHY WE BELONG TOGETHER. XO , ?
    Tom stared at the question mark. Not knowing who was sending him these messages was driving him nuts. And how was she getting them into his pocket without him seeing her? He only took his jacket off in class, or at lunch, and then it was usually hanging over the chair he was sitting in or locked in his locker.
    Tom never knew when he was going to find a note. Sometimes, like now, he didn’t even notice until after school. The notes had to be from someone he knew—someone he saw all the time.
    For a brief moment Tom let himself believe the notes could be from Kelly—that she was wishing she was with him and not Chad. That she was crushing on him like he had been crushing on her for years. Crumpling the note in his fist, he tossed