Page 140 of Sinful Lies

Pulling back, his voice low just above a whisper. “I just know one thing, Jade. The city where he held me hostage… was Boston.”

Chapter

Thirty-Three

“If you have a sister and she dies, do you stop saying you have one?

Or are you always a sister, even when the other half of the equation is gone?”

?Jodi Picoult

Jade

19 years old

Eleven years ago

“Do you know why I love Boston so much?”

She looped her arm through mine as I brought my ice cream to my lips, savoring the taste of vanilla. My eyes wandered around the Harvard Square Mayfair Festival. I took in the crowd, the mouthwatering smell of pizza and street food, the smooth jazz music spilling into the air, and the way people danced together on the small stage. It was mid-spring, and after yesterday’s argument about who was supposed to do the laundry but hadn’t, Mama had grounded both of us.

Yes, grounded.

At nineteen, I could still get grounded. Humiliating.

Turns out, it had been my turn to do the laundry. To make it up to myself, and to Stella, I asked her if she’d wanted to come with me to the Mayfair Festival. Now, what fourteen-year-old wouldn’t jump at the chance to follow her big sister to enjoy a day of fatty food, good music, and cute boys?

She said yes, and just like that, all was forgiven.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it reminds me of New York, you know? Like, the way the lights sparkle at night, the busy streets, and all the cute boys walking around in suits. One day, when I’m all grown up, I’ll move there, get a cute little apartment overlooking Central Park, and…”

I was mid-lick, savoring my ice cream, barely listening to her as she rambled on about Boston and New York, probably working her way up to something straight out of a rom-com. Vanilla dripped dangerously close to my fingers when a man with devil-red paint smeared across his face stepped right in front of us, forcing me to stop.

“Which one of youbellissimaladies wants to uncover what fate has in store?”

I stared at him blankly, his Italian accent strongly tickling my ear, then followed his dramatic gesture to a small, dark tent tucked between two vendor stalls. The fabric was a mix of black and gold, with a crooked wooden sign propped outside that read, “Fortune Teller.” Underneath, in bold, uneven letters: “$5.”

“Not me, buddy,” I said, waving him off.

I went back to licking my cone, already halfway down the street when Stella grabbed my arm, practically yanking me back.

“Jadie! Oh my god, please, let’s do it!”

I turned, groaning. “Seriously? You want him to tell you your future?”

“It’s only five bucks!” She clutched my arm like her life depended on it, wide-eyed and practically bouncing. “What if he says something cool? What if he knows something?”

“What’s he gonna know? That my ice cream’s melting? Because same,” I muttered, licking the drip off the side.

“Jaaaadie.” She dragged out my name like a five-year-old. “Please!”

“Stella, it’s a scam. A five-dollar scam!”

“Please, Jadie. Just five minutes,” she whined, clasping her hands in petition now.

I groaned, glaring at the devil-painted man, who was watching us with a smug grin, clearly sensing he’d won. “Fine! But if he tells me my soulmate is a Capricorn, I’m leaving.”

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