Page 1 of When Fate Breaks
PROLOGUE
TWENTY-TWO YEARS AGO
Annie
Shrieking pierces the air.
“Where are we?”
“Honey, it’s okay! Just calm down, baby.”
“Mommy, why are we here? I thought we were going to Grammy’s.”
“Annie, I told you,” my mom says, dangling halfway into the backseat and tending to my fussy baby sister. “We’re stopping at Daddy’s friend’s house first. Remember?” She tries to give Steph a pacifier, but she only spits it out, crying even harder.
“No,” I say. “I want to go to Grammy’s and paint like you said.”
“We are, hon,” my dad chimes in from the driver’s seat. “We’ll just be here for an hour or so. You remember Uncle Kyle, don’t you, Annie-bell? Daddy’s best friend?”
“I thought Mommy was your best friend.”
My mom and dad both laugh. Steph continues to scream.
“You got that right,” Mom says with a wink.
“Well,secondbest friend,” Dad clarifies. “Uncle Kyle and I have known each other since we were your age. You met him and his family once a few years ago, but you may have been too young to remember.”
“Annie, hon, can you grab the applesauce from the baby bag? Steph may be hungry,” Mom says, flustered.
I reach into the bag, fishing around until I find the bright green squeeze pouch of applesauce. “Here you go, Stephy,” I say, uncapping the pouch and squeezing some into her wailing mouth. She immediately spits all of the applesauce back up, all over herself and onto my hands.
“Blech!” I yell. “Gross!”
Steph’s cries gradually turn into giggles at my outburst right as we pull into the driveway of a large house made of wood and stone, huge windows and a wrap-around porch and balcony decorating its front. There’s at least twenty cars parked in the driveway and all along the street in front of the house.
“Why are there so many people here?” I ask.
“It’s Uncle Kyle’s birthday,” Dad says.
“So this is an adult party?” I ask, groaning.
Dad chuckles as both he and Mom step out of the car, Mom opening the back door to grab Steph out of her car seat. “It’s just an hour, Annie,” he says.
“And then Grammy’s?”
“And then Grammy’s,” he confirms. “Hop out, let’s go.”
We make our way up the porch to the front door, Steph bouncing on Mom’s hip. I can hear music coming from inside the house as Dad knocks on the door. After a few seconds, a pretty dark-haired lady about Mom’s age answers.
“Hi, Emily,” my dad says, smiling.
“Brett! Welcome home. Lake Placid has missed you,” the dark-haired lady says, hugging my dad and then my mom. “Hi, Heidi, you look beautiful! And so does this little cutie,” she says, tickling Steph’s tummy.
Her eyes shift down to me and she squats down to my level. “Hello there, Miss Annie,” she says. “God, you’ve gotten so big! Do you remember me? I’m Auntie Emily.”
She holds out her manicured hand to me. “Um, my hands are sticky,” I say, showing her my palms still caked with applesauce.
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry! I forgot,” my mom says. “Here, let me grab you a wipe.” She starts to swing the diaper bag off of her shoulder and dig into it with one hand.
