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She answered on the second ring."Hey," he said. "Sorry for calling so late. I hope I didn't wake you." I was in bed but not asleep yet," Susan replied. "What's up?"Brock wasn't sure how to begin the conversation."I ran into someone today," he started. "Uh, do you remember the picture I showed you when you guys were up here?" Of course," Susan said, concern evident in her voice. "Brock, are you OK?" I'm fine," he said. "Well, sort of fine. Look, Suze, she said she was my sister." Your what?" Susan asked, her voice rising with alarm."She said she's my sister," Brock repeated. "Well, half-sister anyway. She said we have the same father." Is she right?" Susan wondered."I don't know," Brock admitted. "Possibly. She had a picture of my mom and her dad from high school. I was born less than a year after mom graduated. It sort of makes sense." Did you meet him?" Susan inquired. "What's he like?" Dead," Brock answered. "He died even before mom did. She said he was hurt on a movie set. Zoe's. But I’ll let you know. I just want to make one thing clear. I’m nobody’s bitch.’ ‘Got it.’ ‘Don’t worry. This is going to be fun, Mrs. Foster. For me, anyway.’ He smiled… but it was a weirdly impassive smile. Lindsey couldn’t read Gary at all. His eyebrows were so thick and low, she could barely see his eyes at all. It must be weird looking out at the world through two narrow slits like that. Before getting on the bus, she desperately fished her cell phone out of her purse and dialed her sister. She’ll know what to do. But there was no answer. Damn it, Katie! Where are you? Miss Ostiago leaned out of the bus door, ‘Are you coming, Mrs. Foster? It’s time to go.’ When she sat down next to Brant, she took the window seat, feeling utterly drained and aggravated. Am I ever going to get out of these damned woods? But Brant was smiling and started chatting excitedly about the book she’d given him to read. Brant’s eager infatuation was intoxicating and diverting. So she ate her lunch and.
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