Page 2 of These Dirty Lies

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Everyone knew I was a flight risk. That one way or another, I was determined to leave this place. But that was before… Now it was different.

I was different.

At least, that’s what everyone thought. That's what I let everyone believe.

They thought I’d been fixed. That the months and months of pills and therapy and time had cured me.

“We might have a class or two together. I’m taking some AP classes.”

Celeste was smart, like MENSA smart. But she didn’t flaunt it. In fact, she tried everything she could not to draw attention to the fact she was basically a teenage genius.

“I can’t believe we have to wear a uniform,” I said.

“It isn’t so bad. At least you won’t have the headache of deciding what to wear every morning.”

“I guess.” I got up and went to the glass balustrade, running my fingers along the polished chrome handrail. The balmy air kissed my skin as I tilted my face to the night sky.

For as long as I could remember I’d always loved the nighttime. There was something beautiful about when the world went to sleep, and darkness reigned. Even now, I felt more grounded once the sun had set than I did at any other time of the day.

Sabrina called me a night owl, but it was more than that—the strange affinity I had with the dark.

“It’s late. I should probably turn in before Mom comes looking for me. You’ll be okay?”

“I’m fine. Go. I’d hate for Sabrina to catch you up here again.”

“Ignore her. We’re sisters.” Celeste shrugged. “Nothing she does or says is going to change that. I want you here, Harleigh.”

“Thanks.” My smile didn’t reach my eyes. It never did these days.

“See you tomorrow. Good night.”

“Night.”

Celeste went inside, leaving me alone. Sometimes, I didn’t know what I would do without her. She was the only thing that made this—being here in this strange place—bearable. God only knows, it wasn’t being reunited with my father. If you could even call it a reunion. I’d barely seen the man since returning from Albany Hills a month ago.

I exhaled a long breath, gripping the handrail tighter. Sometimes, I sat up here and stared out into the distance, trying to see past the trees and the town, all the way past the reservoir right to Darling Row, the trailer park where I’d grown up.

If this house was the epitome of the American dream, The Row was the place dreams went to die. But it had been more to me than this place ever would be.

It had been home.

And I knew why. It always came back to him.

With Phoenix by my side, it hadn’t felt that bad at all.

Phoenix Wilder.

My best friend. The boy who had owned a piece of my heart since I was old enough to know what giving your heart to a boy meant.

There was a time I’d thought he would be mine. That we’d survive The Row, life, together. But that was the funny thing about dreams… they either came true, or in my case, they went up in flames.

Phoenix Wilder had been everything to me.

Until he wasn’t.

Until he’d left me when I’d needed him most.

And now he was like everything else in my life that had existed before my father brought me here.


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