The Lilac Bottle

Chapter One

"You need to get out of here," Sadie said to me out of the blue.

My head snapped up in surprise. "What? Why?" I peeked out her kitchen window to see if Steve had come back home. He hadn't. I didn't think he had, because I kept checking.

Sadie chuckled softly. "You've been alternating between staring out the window and looking over your shoulder at the door. I know when you're getting restless. You're itching to get out of here."

I tried to shrug nonchalantly, but even I noticed the jerkiness of it. We were in Sadie's kitchen, a domestic domain I couldn't bring myself to settle in like she had. But she fed me during my surprise visit, so the least I could do was help with the dishes. She washed, I dried.

"I don't have to go." I checked the window again. "Not yet, anyway."

Sadie sighed. "Steve won't be back home for another two hours. You've got time."

My twin sister knew my intense dislike of her husband. The feeling was mutual. I always tried to visit when he was at work and I didn't have to compete with him for her attention. Sadie knew this. She didn't like it, but she didn't try to force me to like Steve, which I was grateful for.

"To be honest, though, that wasn't exactly what I meant," Sadie added as she snatched the corner of a folded-up magazine clipping from my back pocket and whipped it our before I could protest. "Another travel article? 'Taking a train through Europe'," she read aloud. "This sounds like something you would do."

I tried to grab the clipping back from her, but she expertly danced away. "It just looked really interesting!"

"You think all travel articles are interesting. Why don't you stop reading them and just go?"

I finally wrangled the clipping back from her and glanced down at it. A dark-haired woman with sunglasses rested her elbows on the rim of an open train window, a breathtaking mountain landscape surrounding her. Her hair blew in the wind and her cheeks her rosy with cold, and she beamed like she was having the best time of her life. Happy. Independent. Free.

I shoved it back into my pocket. "I can't leave you."

Sadie raised her brow. "What do you mean? You're strong and independent. More so than I'll ever be. I can't stand seeing you so restless."

"I just...I can't."

We had never been separated. Even though I had the urge to explore and get the hell out of this hot, dusty town, I just couldn't leave Sadie. Wherever I went, she went, too. And vice versa.

Sadie studied me. "Moira, traveling through Europe is not the same as Mom leaving. You're not abandoning me."

I glanced away. "That's not what this is about."

"Yes, it is. I can see it written all over your face. You've always been an open book."

I didn't reply. Sadie sighed and stood, her loose summer dress flowing around her elegantly as she turned back into the kitchen. "Would you like some after-dinner coffee before you go?"

"Sure. Why not?" Hopeful that this was a subject change, I rolled with it. "I'll be up all night, but that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

"It's decaffeinated."

"What's the point of drinking it, then?"

Sadie pressed her lips together, then grinned. "You get the coffee taste without being up all night."

"Whatever." Sadie's practical logic always trumped my wobbly passion.

With the coffee pot brewing, Sadie sat back down at the table, emitting a soft groan as she did.