Her First Mistake by Carey Baldwin (books for 10th graders txt) 📕

Alma’s face brightened with relief, and she pulled Angelica in for an embrace. As mother and daughter said their farewells, Mia wiped a palm over her hip, and then, noticing a bump in the dress pocket, reached in and took out a tiny cardboard square.

Lacy’s Gentlemen’s Club.

She quickly closed her hand to conceal the object. What was a matchbook from a strip club doing in the pocket of Celeste’s dress?

Five

Mia kept her chin up, her eyes fixed on a framed photograph hanging above the sofa in the living room of the house she shared with her Aunt Misty. Shortly before her grandfather had fallen ill, he’d taken Mia to a flea market and let her pick out her own special treasure.

She’d chosen a photo of stars blitzing the night sky.

A wise choice, he’d said. It takes a dark night to reveal heaven’s beauty.

To this day, every time she looked at that photo, she thought of Granddad—and remembered how to hope.

If only Aunt Misty could do the same.

She hardly seemed like the same woman who used to bring Mia gingerbread men and play tea party, back in the day before Granddad died—before Mia’s mother whisked her away to the cabin in the woods. Back then, Aunt Misty’s eyes had danced with mischief; now they darted guardedly about, their former bright blue dulled to a near gray. Her gaunt face aged her beyond her years, and her short, bobbed hair, though stylish, did little to mitigate a chronically beleaguered expression.

Aunt Misty wet her lips, preparing to speak.

Mia’s entire body stiffened in anticipation.

“Why would Angelica Cooper take you to her poor sister’s house and lend you her clothes? It’s downright macabre. That family gives me the creeps.” Aunt Misty shuddered.

Mia had known her overprotective aunt would be less than pleased about her visit to Celeste Cooper’s home, but she hadn’t expected her to turn it into something sinister. But that was Aunt Misty for you: she dreamed up ulterior motives for the cable repair guy, the postman, and the pharmacist. There was nothing strange about the Coopers’ kindness. “They’re not creepy. They’re nice.”

“Too nice, if you ask me.”

Mia cringed as the four walls of their living room closed in. She tried to tune out her aunt’s words. She already knew them by heart: You can’t trust them—them meaning anyone in the world other than Aunt Misty or possibly, on a good day, Dr. Baquero.

“Mia, are you listening? I said I think someone followed me home today. I’m certain of it. I can feel someone watching us.”

“You mean like yesterday? And the day before? What about last week when you called the police because the Pembertons didn’t answer their phone, and a strange car was parked in their drive?”

“That was their fault for not picking up my calls and for not telling me they’d bought a new Mustang. But I’m getting off track. I’m relieved you’re okay, but I still don’t understand why Angelica Cooper took you to Celeste’s house. It just doesn’t feel right.”

“She wanted to make sure I was okay.” Mia touched her chin, where a bruise was beginning to form. Better not mention that Isaiah had punched her. That would simply be too much for her aunt. “Celeste’s place is very near the park, and Angelica felt bad about her brother ripping my blouse.”

“He tore your blouse?” Aunt Misty twisted her hands.

“Don’t give me that look. He was trying to break my fall—it was an accident. I’m a friend of Celeste’s and—”

“You’re not her friend.”

“Celeste talked to Angelica about me. And Mrs. Cooper, Alma, said I remind her of Celeste. I think maybe they wanted to look after me because they hope that, somewhere out there, someone is watching over Celeste. What if Celeste fainted? What if she hit her head and can’t remember who she is? Maybe she has amnesia and a kind stranger is nursing her back to health right this minute.”

“You’ve got a wild imagination.”

“I’m your niece, aren’t I? Now, please, please, please, stop worrying. I’m tired, and I’m going to my room.” It was past time to get Celeste’s keys out of her purse. After parting ways with Angelica, Mia had made copies of flyers and handed them out before heading home. But every time she’d reached in her bag, she’d thought of those keys, lying in wait, ready to strike like a poisonous snake. She’d considered tossing them in the ocean, but that felt all wrong—like she’d done something criminal and like a further betrayal. If Celeste came home—when Celeste came home—Mia might still be able to sneak them back to her. Better to hide them someplace safe.

“Then go lie down, and next time, call me.”

“I will. And here’s fair warning; I’m going out again tomorrow after work.”

“But—”

“There’s no point arguing. I intend to do all I can to help find Celeste. If anything happened to me, you’d want the whole world out there searching and you know it.”

“At least turn on the location sharing on your phone again. I need to know you’re safe. I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s been following us.”

She sighed. If anyone was stalking Mia, it was Aunt Misty. “We’ve been through this. You don’t get to track my every move. I’m not six anymore.”

Aunt Misty crossed the room and pulled the curtains aside just enough to peek out the window at the street. “It’s for your own safety. What if—”

“What if what? My mother’s out there spying on us? She’s come back to steal me away from you? I should be so lucky.”

Her aunt stumbled back, clutching her chest, filling Mia with regret.

“I only meant that then we’d know she’s alive.”

“I want to believe your mother’s alive, too. She’s my sister. My flesh and blood. And yes, when you were little, I did worry she’d come back and try to take you away from me. But Mia, she locked you in a shed.” Aunt Misty’s voice cracked. “I’ll never forgive myself for that. I shouldn’t have let