“Take the children somewhere else,” Whitney said. “Now.”

Chapter 38

Gwen heard footsteps coming down the hallway, toward the bedroom door. Christopher, she thought with a flash of annoyance, and shoved the planner back into a shoebox, leaving the top askew in her haste. She grabbed the nearest coat of her mother’s, an old full-length mink pelt, and thrust it on, burying her face in its sleeve and trying to work up some tears that would scare him away.

But Amara opened the door, with Ellie, Meredith, and Vicki filing in behind her. Oh, God, had they come to take her out for some attempt at a girls’ night, some misguided gesture of friendship? The last thing she had the energy for right now was some dinner where they all steadily got plastered while attempting to convince her that she was too good for Christopher. (She’d known that for years now.)

Strange, Claire was there too. Gwen had hoped that, during her forced isolation, Claire would pickle in alcohol and self-destruct. What a disappointment to see her looking healthier than ever. Gwen gave a sniffle, thinking of excuses to send them away.

“Did we catch you in the middle of something?” Amara asked, her voice a little cold for someone about to spirit her off on a fun adventure.

“Oh, my goodness,” Gwen said, struggling to her feet, acutely aware of the shoebox next to her. Just don’t look at it, she told herself, and they won’t look either. “I wasn’t expecting you all!”

“Surprise,” Amara said.

“I feel like I’m crying every time you see me now,” she said lightly. “It’s just . . . my parents died when I was in my twenties, and I’ve kept some things of theirs, and I come in here sometimes so it’s like I’m with them. Maybe you could give me a moment to collect myself, and then I could make us some coffee downstairs?” She looked up, expecting to see their sympathetic faces, only to notice Whitney standing at the back of the crowd. Her stomach dropped. “What is she doing here?” she asked. She fixed Whitney with her most guilt-inducing stare. “If you’ve come to apologize, I’m not ready.” Whitney looked back, brazen, and Gwen’s doubts began to grow.

“Oh, that’s not at all close to the reason that we’re here,” Amara said. And then Ellie and Meredith jumped forward, pushing Gwen down into the armchair, restraining her with their arms, and she knew that, somehow, they’d figured it out. Their palms against her shoulders were firm, and she winced at the pressure.

“You’re hurting me!” she said. “What’s going on? Why are you doing this?”

“Don’t play dumb with us,” Amara said. “We know about TrueMommy.”

“What about TrueMommy?” she asked, struggling against Ellie and Meredith as her mind whirred. “The speed? I don’t understand why you’re attacking me—”

“So you’re, what?” Amara asked. “A fucking TrueMommy shill? A plant they send to manipulate women who consider you a friend?”

Things clicked into place. They thought she was some minion. She could work with that. She could spin that straw into perfect gold. “Oh, God,” she said, and let her voice choke up. “You’re right. I was a plant, but I didn’t realize I was a harmful one! I am so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you all like this. I didn’t know—”

“Yeah, right,” Ellie said, digging her fingernails into Gwen’s shoulder.

“Okay, I knew a little,” Gwen yelped. “They asked me if I was interested in working out a deal where I got a commission in exchange for doing my best to keep people enthusiastic about it. I thought it was just an innocent marketing tactic, like any brand might do, like Whitney did in all her sponsored posts! Then they kept asking for more and more—to report on anything out of the ordinary, to keep an eye on things. I didn’t realize how out of hand it would get.”

“You’d screw us over for a commission when an entire playgroup can fit in your closet? What the hell is wrong with you?” Amara asked. “What kind of money-hungry monster are you?”

“And what about the group in Hoboken?” Whitney asked.

So they knew about that too. Gwen fell back on the most trusted weapon in her arsenal—widening those blueberry eyes of hers. “We don’t have any money left,” she said haltingly. “Christopher gambled most of it away. I had to do something or we’d lose the brownstone and wouldn’t be able to provide for our girls. You all have to understand—I needed to protect them.” She bit down hard on her tongue and let the shock of it bring tears to her eyes. “I knew there was something fishy about the pills, like we all did, but I didn’t know details. I closed my eyes to it all until it was too late, and I am so, so sorry for how I hurt you all and the other groups they sent me to.”

The hatred in Amara’s face started to soften infinitesimally, the wariness in Whitney’s posture loosening. Ellie and Meredith began to release their grips on her as Vicki blinked, having already stayed focused far longer than she was used to. They wanted to believe the best in her and the best in themselves. They wanted to think that no one who had gotten to know them so well could want to cause them harm. She’d make it easy for them to hold on to that illusion.

“It was one of those things where you don’t realize how deep in you’re getting, and when you finally do realize, you’re too afraid to tell the truth. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I worried they’d find out, that they’d harm me and the girls.” She looked at Whitney. “We’ve all made mistakes, haven’t we?” Whitney looked down at the ground. “You have to understand. I’ve hated myself every day since it started.” When she finished, the other women were all silent for a moment.

Then Amara shook her head and let out a heavy sigh. “God, Gwen,” she said. “You really fucked up.”

Triumph began to glimmer inside Gwen, still nascent, but growing stronger and stronger. “I know that. Please. What do you want me to do?”

“Stay away from us,” Amara said. “Tell any other playgroups you’ve been doing this to what’s going on. Let TrueMommy know that we’re onto them and they’d better stop.”

“I will,” she said. “I swear.” She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, God,” she said. “Where are Reagan and Rosie? They don’t know what’s happening, do they?”

“No,” Ellie said. “Christopher took them to the park.”

“Thank you,” Gwen said, and Ellie nodded.

“Let’s go,” Amara said to the other women, and as they all gave Gwen final glances of disgust or regret or bafflement and then turned to go, Gwen allowed herself to relax just a little bit too much.