The Secret Between Us [antikvár]

Chapter 1 They were arguing in the seconds before impact. Later, Deborah Monroe would agonize about that, wondering whether, had she been focused solely on the road, she might have seen something sooner and been able to prevent what occurred—because the argument had been nearly as distracting as the storm. She and her daughter never argued. They were similar in looks, temperament, and interests. Deborah rarely had to tweak Grace—her son, Dylan, yes, but not Grace. Grace usually understood what was expected and why. This night, though, the girl fought back. "You're getting hyper about nothing, Mom. Nothing happened." "You said Megan's parents were going to be home," Deborah reminded her. "That's what Megan told me." "I would have thought twice if I'd known there would be a crowd." "We were studying." "You, Megan, and Stephie," Deborah said, and, yes, the textbooks were there, damp from Grace's dash to the car in the rain,