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  “Lil, I—”

  “I’ve got to go check on some plants.”

  She didn’t wait to hear Morgan’s protest, and made a beeline for her greenhouse, which opened off the back of the house. A disgruntled Hermione trotted close behind. Warm, humid air filled her lungs as she shut the door. Morgan didn’t follow.

  This was her space. None of her roommates enjoyed gardening, and they could generally be relied on to leave her alone in here. Living with three other people made such arrangements necessary and she’d never been more grateful for their unspoken rules than today.

  What. The. Fuck.

  The scream she’d stifled in the living room pulsed in her blood. To give her hands something to do, she grabbed the hose and watered the nearest tray of plants. Thoughts danced and died in the mist. She hung the hose on its hook when she’d soaked the last of her hanging pots and seedlings and surveyed her domain. Hibiscus grew in her tortoise Circe’s enclosure, and hanging plants provided shade over the sandy floor. Growing tables and tortoise-friendly potted cultivars occupied the rest of the greenhouse. Fuchsia dangled its purple flowers over a dwarf lemon tree. Trellised tomatoes rebelled against their restraints near the door.

  She wished she could join them.

  Ivy was going to work at the clinic. At her clinic. She sank to the ground, not caring that her pants would get covered in dirt, and buried her face in her hands. Sunlight pooled around her, tinted green by her jungle. Hermione gave her knee a cautious sniff.

  “No,” she said into her fingers, and shuddered as memories she’d suppressed for years tore through her.

  • • •

  Ivy Holden closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat as the plane taxied toward the runway. She didn’t want to see Colorado fading to a patchwork of fields and mountains beneath her. It was bad enough she’d gotten stuck next to a toddler, who already had taken an interest in her that bordered on demonic. He’d even run his toy train along her leg, something his mother had definitely seen and chosen to ignore. Judging by the purple circles underneath her eyes, the woman had lost the battle for control of her progeny some time ago.

  The red light of her own eyelids, however, provided little relief. She heard Kara’s voice: confused, heartbroken, demanding to know the real reason Ivy had decided to leave. Kara would survive. One day, she might even see this for the favor it was. That didn’t make Ivy’s current pain any less sharp. She’d planned on staying in Colorado indefinitely. She loved the mountains and the way the aspen trees turned yellow in the fall, nothing like the riot of reds and oranges back east, but perfect in its own way. She loved, too, the equine practice she’d left, where she’d worked since graduating from Cornell and had envisioned as her professional future. Then there was her house with its view of the Rockies and the creek that tumbled over the stones at the foot of the sloping hill of her backyard, which her Jack Russell Terrier, Darwin, loved plunging into during the summer. As if on cue he growled from his carrier beneath her seat. The toddler shrieked and immediately leaned down to peer at him.

  “Can I pet?” the boy asked.

  Darwin growled again.

  “He’s a little scared right now,” she said, though in truth Darwin hadn’t been scared of anything in his life. He’d defied Darwin’s law since she’d adopted him, hence his name, and right now she suspected he would like nothing more than to snack on this child’s greasy fingers.

  “Can I pet?” the boy asked again.

  “The lady said no,” said his mother in a voice suggesting she needed a stiff drink, a vacation, and perhaps a time machine that would allow her to rethink the wisdom of reproducing.

  Ivy didn’t like children. Specifically, she didn’t like children who were not related to her or her friends, and she really, really didn’t like being stuck in situations like this where she could not escape from the nasty neonates. That was part of the reason she’d ended up in veterinary medicine. Animals made sense.

  They could also be confined to pet carriers.

  A spasm of pain contracted around her ribs and she held her breath, waiting for the muscles to release their grip. The pain diminished after a few minutes but did not dissipate entirely. She let it melt into the thrum of the plane’s engines as the pilot prepared for takeoff.

  She couldn’t help opening her eyes to look out the window as the ground dropped away. Home. The pain in her chest came from her heart now, and she wondered for the thousandth time what her life might have been like had things turned out differently.

  Instead she was headed east to a new job in a new town. Seal Cove was close to the island where her family spent the summers, and moving closer to family, while not something she had considered a priority before, was now a necessity.

  Don’t go there. Not yet.

  Seal Cove. A friend had told her about a practice hiring in Maine, and the position was exactly what she needed: ambulatory in a mixed practice. Once again, she blocked the doubts that kept her up at night. If worse came to worst, she could transition to small animal medicine, and Seal Cove would provide that opportunity.

  Lillian Lee’s face rose before her as clouds obscured her view of the landscape below. Lillian. If Ivy had ever needed proof the universe had a twisted sense of humor, this was it.

  “Wait, isn’t that the chick you hated?” her sister, Madison, had asked when she’d told her about her connections to the Seal Cove staff.

  Hate, however, didn’t quite encompass the nature of their relationship. It was more than hate. It had been enmity; the kind of fierce awareness of another person that bordered on obsession and that had shadowed her entire veterinary school experience. But as she had explained to Madison, who was the only person in the world who knew the real reason she had decided to move, the job had been too perfect in every other way to turn down. Besides. She liked Morgan Donovan, despite her association with Lillian.

  Several layovers and an upgrade to first class later—why had she booked economy on that first leg?—she landed in Portland, Darwin in tow. Her things should have arrived already via moving truck, and Freddie, the horse she’d had since age 13, was on his way across the country via the VIP trailering service she’d booked for him. The Portland airport was small and clean and thankfully easy to navigate. She waited for her luggage with Darwin vibrating in his carrier, eager to leap out and investigate—or terrorize—her fellow travelers.

  “There you are.”

  She grinned as her sister pulled her into a hug. Her hair smelled like Briogeo shampoo, and Ivy breathed in the familiar scent as she returned the embrace.

  “I missed you. How long have you been waiting?”

  “Not long. I hit traffic coming from Boston. Is that your bag?” Madison pointed at the duffel headed toward them and snatched it up at Ivy’s nod.

  She followed her sister to the parking garage. Darwin, who had tried to mark everything he passed on his way, sniffed at the door of Madison’s BMW enthusiastically. She scooped him up before he could scratch the paint.

  “How are you feeling?” Madison asked as she slipped sunglasses on over eyes the exact same shade of green as her own.

  “Like I could sleep for a week.”

  “Not an option. We have things to do. Mom is thrilled you’re back on this coast and is having a party on the island tomorrow.”

  “She couldn’t have waited another, I don’t know, day or two? I have to get unpacked.”

  “Pay someone else to do it.”

  “Things go in a—”

  “Yes, I remember how anal retentive you are. Okay. What’s the address?”

  Ivy directed the GPS to her rental house and restrained Darwin from leaping out of the window at a squirrel. Her sister chattered on about the latest island gossip. Madison came up on the weekends with the rest of the crowd they’d grown up spending the summers with. Like Madison and Ivy, most had gone on to law school or med school, with the rest washing up in business school or living off trust funds. She hadn’t be
en a part of that world for a while, and the thought of reentering those circles gave her a headache. What she really wanted, more than anything, was to curl up beneath her down duvet and go to sleep. The movers should have at least set up her bed; she was certainly paying them enough. She’d cancel on her mother, she decided as Madison pushed the upper boundaries of the speed limit. Her eyes wanted to drift shut instead of taking in the passing pines and autumn foliage, and she pulled her sunglasses out of her purse. At least Madison wouldn’t be able to see how tired she looked with shades on.

  “This is so cute,” Madison said when they pulled into the driveway of Ivy’s new home. The cottage was set back from the road, and she could see the Damariscotta River through the trees. Brilliant fall foliage surrounded the lot, and fallen leaves piled up against the shingled siding. “You’re like a little elf, living all alone in the forest.”

  “Please never call me a ‘little elf’ again.”

  Madison’s heels clicked on the paved driveway as she practically skipped up to the door. Ivy released Darwin. He took off on a tour of his new kingdom, scattering squirrels and leaves as he went while she dug the keys her agent had mailed her out of her purse. After a brief struggle, the lock turned.

  “Oh. My. God.” Madison pivoted in a circle as she took in the hardwood floors, picture windows, and the sweeping views of the river beyond. “It’s so gorgeous! And rustic! Look! You have a woodstove!”

  Ivy looked. There was indeed a woodstove, as well as a fireplace on the opposite side of the wall, and there was another woodstove in the master bedroom. That had been part of the appeal of the house: warmth. She let Madison explore and counted the exclamation points at the end of her sister’s sentences.

  Boxes filled the rooms. Her furniture, at least, was set up, though she would definitely be rearranging things, and she collapsed onto her couch and groaned. Her entire body hurt. Travel, stress, and lack of sleep tacked their grievances onto the list of complaints her body had already issued. She fumbled in her purse for her medication and swallowed it dry, grimacing as the pill stuck on its way down.

  Lillian Lee.

  She stroked Darwin, who had curled up on her chest, and wondered if Lillian still chewed on her pens or if she’d outgrown the oral fixation that had been the cause of four years of torment for Ivy. Maybe she’d upgraded to syringes. The thought amused her even as she discarded it. The violation of safety protocol would no doubt drive Lillian crazy. She’d always been too good at following the rules.

  Don’t think about Lillian. Madison clicked back into the room, still wearing her heels, and immediately began talking about interior design before plopping down on the couch and kicking off her shoes. She couldn’t help one last thought from slipping in.

  Darkness. Loud music. Too much alcohol in her system and the smell of snow as she pushed her way out of Natalie’s apartment and into the quiet Ithaca night, the scent of Lillian’s perfume still clinging to her shirt.

  • • •

  Lillian checked her appearance in the clinic bathroom one last time. Her maroon blouse complimented her white coat and also, unfortunately, magnified the flush of angry color on her cheeks.

  Today was not going to be a good day.

  Morgan met her outside the bathroom, trailed, as always, by Stevie, her technician and their third roommate. Stevie yawned widely. Her blond hair in its perpetual ponytail bore a rumpled look, suggesting she’d napped in the truck on her ride to work with Morgan. Lillian envied her. Sleep had evaded her almost completely.

  “Coffee?” Morgan held a mug out, and Lillian took a robotic sip.

  “What time is she getting here?”

  “Danielle told her to be here at 7:30.”

  Lillian glanced at the clock on the wall. 7:20. Ten minutes, assuming Ivy arrived exactly on time, until her least favorite person in the entire world showed up to ruin her life. Again.

  “You okay?” asked Morgan.

  “Totally. Like you said, I’m not the one who has to deal with her. I’ll hardly see her. You’ll have Poison Ivy all to yourself.”

  “Poison Ivy?” asked Stevie.

  “That’s what we called her in school,” said Morgan.

  Danielle Watson walked into the break room before they could elaborate. Her curly gray hair and weathered skin always made Lillian think of how Morgan would look in another few decades. Today, however, she had no warm feelings for her boss.

  “Please come welcome our new staff member.”

  “More like staph infection,” Lillian said to Morgan under her breath as they left the sanctuary of the break room. In the lobby, over the sound of a barking dog getting dropped off for surgery, she heard a familiar voice.

  Venom pulsed through her.

  “Hi, I’m Dr. Holden,” Ivy announced to the receptionist.

  Danielle vanished through the lobby door.

  “You’re going to strangle yourself with your stethoscope,” Morgan said.

  Lillian hadn’t realized she’d been twisting it around her neck. She let it fall back around her shoulders and sank her fists into the pockets of her white coat as the door swung back open.

  Ivy Holden reentered Lillian’s life without fanfare. She wore a gray oxford shirt over dark-washed utility pants that probably cost more than Lillian’s rent. They hugged her athletic frame, and her blond hair hung loose around her shoulders in the kind of casual wave only expensive hair products could achieve. Lillian instantly felt underdressed. Ivy shook Morgan’s hand and flashed her a smile filled with perfect teeth. As she did so, Lillian noticed the first difference from the Ivy she’d known previously.

  In vet school, Ivy’s makeup had been flawless but a touch ostentatious. Now, she wore only the faintest suggestion of product—another thing that was easier to pull off with money—and the natural tones accentuated the contours of her cheeks, her flawless jawline, and the full curve of her lips. She avoided looking into Ivy’s eyes until the last possible second. When she did, the force of that gaze made inventorying trace amounts of mascara and eyeshadow impossible.

  “Good to see you again, Dr. Lee,” said Ivy.

  There was something about Ivy’s eyes that reminded Lillian of a cat. The slight slant. The perpetually sardonic arch of her brow, as if she knew something the rest of the world didn’t. And, of course, the shocking green of her irises. That green had always seen right through her.

  “Dr. Holden, so good to see you, too.” She mimicked Ivy’s formal address. Ivy’s grip on her hand was warm and firm, and she returned it, exerting a touch more pressure than was perhaps necessary. Ivy’s lips curled up in a faint smirk. She proceeded down the line of technicians and assistants, leaving Lillian to grit her teeth.

  “Dr. Holden will mostly be working on ambulatory, but she’ll take cases here as needed,” Danielle explained to the assembled staff.

  Lillian locked eyes with Morgan, who gave her a minuscule shrug, as if to say, “I didn’t know she was mixed practice either.”

  Ivy in the barn was one thing; Ivy on her turf was quite another. Her very presence violated the sanctuary of stability she’d built around her over the past few years.

  “I didn’t realize you practiced small animal medicine.”

  Morgan stiffened at the snarl in Lillian’s voice, but she ignored the warning in her friend’s eyes. She couldn’t afford to appear weak. Like her namesake, Ivy could put a root into the smallest crack and, given enough time, crumble even the thickest walls. She would not let that happen again.

  “I’m interested in getting back into it,” said Ivy, her voice smooth. Her hair flowed over her shoulders, and Lillian, who had sat near her for four years in lecture halls, entertained her old fantasy of hacking it off with a rusty knife. “My last practice was equine, but I wanted a change.”

  “And our practice has expanded,” said Danielle. “This is the perfect opportunity for us.”

  “Of course.” Lillian smiled through her teeth.

  “Don’t worry. Exo
tics are all yours,” said Ivy.

  Was she imagining the taunt in her words?

  Danielle led Ivy away to fill out paperwork, and Morgan pulled Lillian into an empty exam room. Stevie followed.

  “Did you hear her? ‘Exotics are all yours,’” Lillian said in a low voice that approximated Ivy’s pretentious mannerisms fairly well, in her opinion.

  “Deep breaths, Lil.”

  She tugged her arm out of Morgan’s grasp and paced the room. Her breath came too quickly, but she didn’t care. All the old emotions had come crashing back around her, as if she’d shoved them on a precariously high shelf and foolishly bumped against it. She hated how inferior Ivy made her feel by just existing. Her poise. Her expensive wardrobe. Her stupid fucking eyes.

  Stevie hopped onto the exam table and dangled her legs. “We could key her car.”

  “Her sister is a lawyer.”

  “Then I’m out of ideas.”

  “She’s just so arrogant.” Lillian stopped pacing and turned to her friends. Morgan wore a carefully neutral expression on her face. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Morgan said a little too quickly to be convincing.

  “You think I’m overreacting?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Your face does.”

  Stevie snorted.

  “I just think you didn’t exactly give her a chance before jumping down her throat.”

  Lillian stared at Morgan in disbelief. “Give her a chance? Do you remember who this is?”

  “I remember Ivy.”

  She hated when Morgan got like this. The only time Lillian had really seen Morgan lose her cool was over women. Now that she and Emilia were together, however, Morgan’s implacable attitude had resettled.

  “Then you know giving her a chance is like—” She cast around for an analogy. “Turning your back on a tiger.”

  “Rawr,” added Stevie, rather unhelpfully.