"I don't look at all like my mother," Charity said again, calming herself deliberately.

"That's a very old picture," she added, as though that proved something. She took the locket, snapped it shut and dropped it into her purse. "Now, what shall we have for dessert?" she asked brightly.

They shared an enormous piece of black-bottom pie. Conversation slowly picked up again, and soon it was back to the light chatter it had been most of the afternoon. They laughed a lot on the way home and were still laughing as they came down the hall to Charity's door.

Charity looked from one to the other of her two com panions. Things were going unbelievably well. The patina of upper-middle-class respectability was holding up, thanks in large part to Ross and his charm. Aunt Doris had fallen head over heels for him.

"And who could blame her?" Charity whispered to herself with a slight smile as she fit ted the key into the lock. Aunt Doris was pleased and proud, and that had been Charity's goal all along.

Just before the door opened, Charity thought she heard voices inside her apartment. But that was impossible. There were only two people in the world who had keys to her place, other than she and now Ross. Mason had one, and the other belonged to... .

Faith. Her sister.

When the door opened, Charity's worst nightmare came to life. The prime example of Ames non conformity had arrived for a visit. And as if that weren't enough, she'd brought along a few of her friends.




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