After everything she’d been through with A, she should have known Dinah was going to stab her in the back. An image flashed into her mind. She saw Mona’s car barreling toward her again. She felt the impact, her body flying into the air, the scream lodging in her throat. One person after another kept betraying her.
Hanna rubbed her temples and tried to take slow, even breaths. Was there anyone she could trust anymore? She glanced at her phone on the table, then scrolled through her contacts list, wondering if she should call Spencer. Or maybe Emily. Or Aria. She remembered a gift exchange they’d had in seventh grade, right before the holiday break. Aria had knitted all of them mohair bras, and they’d all tried them on over their clothes and danced around Ali’s living room. Even Ali had been in a good mood that day, not making fun of how Hanna’s bra stretched unflatteringly across her chest. Ali’s brother, Jason, had walked into the room halfway through their dance party. He’d stared at them in their bizarre outfits, and they’d all collapsed into giggles.
There was a cough in the hall, and Hanna looked up just as her father strolled into the room in his bathrobe and slippers. “Hey,” he said in a weary voice, ruffling her hair. “Mind if I have some of that coffee?”
“Be my guest,” Hanna said.
Mr. Marin poured part of the carafe into the Doberman mug he’d used since Hanna was a kid. He sat down next to her, let out a long, tired sigh, and rubbed his eyes.
“Is everything okay?” Hanna asked.
His head bobbed up and down. “I’m just tired. These Twelve Days of Christmas activities are a little crazy this year. Isabel has me running all over the place.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t participated in all of them,” Hanna said, feeling a little guilty.
Mr. Marin waved his hand. “Maybe you were smart to miss them.” He gave her a covert glance. “Between you and me? I think I liked it better when we celebrated Hanukkah. At least that only went on for eight days. And it was much more low-key.”
Hanna bit her bottom lip. “I liked it better when we celebrated it, too.”
Mr. Marin opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but then seemed to change his mind and just took another long swig of his coffee. A silence fell between them. The candy cane–shaped clock Isabel had hung up in the corner ticked loudly. A motor gunned outside.
Then, Mr. Marin patted Hanna’s thigh. “Actually, that reminds me. I have something for you.” He rose, shuffled over to his briefcase by the door, and pulled out a small velvet box.
Hanna stared at it, recognizing it immediately. She lifted the lid and found the very same Cartier locket she’d discovered the day her father, Isabel, and Kate had moved in. She never thought she’d hold it again. “Is this . . . for me?”
“Of course it’s for you. It was your grandmother’s.”
“I know,” Hanna murmured, lifting the necklace out of the box. It glittered in the overhead light. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “I’ve always wanted this.”
“I know,” Mr. Marin said, hiding a smile. “Your grandma would’ve wanted you to have it. I want you to have it, too.”
Hanna stood and gave her father a huge hug. “Thank you.” She wanted to add, for not giving it to Kate or Isabel, but she was afraid it might ruin the moment. All of a sudden, everything felt a little bit better again. Maybe her dad hadn’t forgotten her, after all. Maybe he still remembered, in some small way, that she was here, that she still mattered.
She turned around so that her father could clip it around her neck. The locket hung perfectly at her throat, and Hanna couldn’t resist running her finger over its smooth oval shape. Mr. Marin finished his coffee, then pulled a bottle of water from his briefcase and took a long swig. “Well, I suppose I should get moving.”
“Wait a sec.” Hanna stared at the bottle in his hand. The label said AMINOSPA. “Where did you get that?”
Mr. Marin screwed the cap back on the bottle. “Some guy was selling it at the office. He said these drinks have a ton of vitamins in them and that I’d feel better once I start drinking a couple bottles a day. But I don’t feel any different, to be honest with you. And it kind of tastes like rotten lime juice.”
Hanna smiled sadly. “I think that stuff is a scam.”
“Probably.” Mr. Marin shrugged. “I think the whole point of selling this stuff is to recruit other people to sell it, too. The guy gave me this really long pitch about how I could be a part-time AminoSpa associate—I’d make tons of money and never have to change out of my pajamas.” He chuckled good-naturedly. “The people who get recruited to sell this stuff are like cult members—they’re totally brainwashed. And once they suck you in, there’s no way to get out.”