The One That Got Away by Jamie Sobrato Read Free Book Online

sounded a little awkward, because she wasn’t the kind of person who called people things like that. Izzy figured that even shortening her name to Izzy, as she preferred, must test Nina’s preference for formality. Nina had been good to her, but Izzy could tell her godmother was more comfortable bestowing love on the two cats who loathed Lulu’s presence than on a teenager, and Izzy didn’t really blame her, since Nina had no kids of her own to practice on.
    “Izzy, please let me know you’re okay, at least. I’m going to have to pick the lock if you don’t.”
    Oh, God. She wasn’t ready to face anyone.
    “I’m fine!” she lied, but the weepy sound in her voice told the truth.
    She could hear Nina talking to someone in the hallway, and then footsteps retreated down the wood staircase. Izzy knew she couldn’t stay hiding out in the bathroom forever, so she pulled herself up and took a good hard look in the mirror.
    Yikes.
    She splashed cold water on her face, hoping to rid her eyes of some of their puffiness. Then she went to work on repairing her makeup. She didn’t wear much—just a bit of mascara, eye liner and blush. Nina insisted she didn’t need it, but Izzy thought it made a difference. She figured if she had to go to her own mom’s funeral, she got to decide whether or not she wore makeup, and Nina seemed to sort of agree, even though she didn’t like it.
    There was still a shaky feeling in Izzy’s belly when she was done, but she didn’t feel quite as bad as before. She guessed she needed to let out some of the sheer terror.
    But now…
    Now she had to face him .

    M ARCUS HEARD THE SOUND of whimpering and looked down to see that there was something brown and wiggly in the pink duffel bag on the ground. Upon closer inspection, mesh panels revealed what looked like a small dog. He knelt down and murmured some soothing sounds to the dog. He suddenly recalled Izzy asking if she could bring her pet along, though in all the upheaval of the past few weeks as he’d prepared to leave Amsterdam, he’d managed to forget they would have a dog along on the trip.
    Had he even asked Ginger if she’d mind having a dog at her house?
    “That must be Lulu,” Ginger said, her memory obviously better than his. “Do you think she’ll bite if we try to get her out?”
    “Maybe that’s why Izzy has her in this travel bag.”
    Ginger knelt beside the bag. “She looks harmless enough.”
    “Famous last words,” Marcus joked, in spite of his grim mood.
    He could tell by Nina’s tone as she called through the door that things weren’t going well upstairs. And he had no idea what to do. He didn’t know how to be a dad, and he wasn’t technically anyone’s dad except when it came to biology, so he was pretty sure going up there would only make things worse.
    He’d opted to stay put for the moment.
    When Nina came back downstairs a few minutes later, her expression twisted in a tense smile, Ginger rose from her perch beside the dog.
    “Is she okay?” Marcus asked.
    Nina sighed heavily. “I’m sure she’s about as okay as she can be given the circumstances. I think she’s just having a little bout of cold feet.”
    “Should I go try to talk to her?” he suggested. “Or maybe leave and come back when she’s feeling better?”
    “I don’t have a clue.”
    The sound of a door opening echoed down the stairway, and a moment later a pair of feet clad in brown suede moccasin boots came into view. A tall, thin girl with a heavy curtain of dark brown hair descended the stairs. She resembled the photo in Marcus’s e-mail in-box, but she didn’t.
    What took his breath away most was how much she looked like him. Like a small, wiry girl version of him in a purple tunic sweater and skinny jeans.
    Big, sad brown eyes so like his own stared back at him, seeming to take in the same truth he’d just registered—that there was no doubt who was related to whom.
    “Isabel—I mean Izzy,” he said.