LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter One

      Crandall Lake, Texas—early October

      Sophie Marlowe sneaked a glance at the clock. Eleven thirty-five. Twenty-five minutes until her lunch break. Suppressing a sigh, she turned her attention back to the student sitting in front of her desk. “What are you going to do, Kaitlyn?”

      The unhappy senior shrugged. “I don’t know.”

      “They’re going to have to be told sometime. It would be best if you just tell them now while you still have options.”

      The girl nodded, her eyes bleak. “They’re gonna kill me.”

      Sophie smiled wryly. “I know your parents. They are lovely, rational people. They won’t kill you.”

      “But they’ll be so disappointed,” Kaitlyn muttered.

      “I’m sure they will, but they love you. They’ll get over it.” Yet even as Sophie said the rote words, she knew that some parents didn’t get over it easily. When your daughter was smart, got great grades and was on track to attend one of the best universities in Texas, it was hard to discover said daughter wasn’t as smart as you’d thought. That, in fact, she was pregnant and already a couple of months along.

      “I wish...” Kaitlyn began.

      “I know. You wish this hadn’t happened.”

      Two fat tears rolled down Kaitlyn’s cheeks. “Billy’s being so mean to me.”

      Now Sophie did sigh. She wasn’t surprised that the father of the baby wasn’t thrilled by his girlfriend’s pregnancy. Honestly. What in the world were these kids thinking? That was the problem. They weren’t thinking. The thinking began after the damage was done, and by then, it was too late. “Would you like me to be with you when you talk to your parents?” As Crandall Lake High School’s guidance counselor, Sophie wasn’t required to do more than listen to and advise students of available resources, but she couldn’t help feeling sorry for the girl in her office. Kaitlyn Lowe was a good kid. In fact, she was one of the last kids Sophie thought would be in this position.

      “Would you?”

      The raw fear in Kaitlyn’s blue eyes reminded Sophie that the girl was only seventeen. Only a year older than Joy. The thought of Joy, her younger half sister and legal ward, whose parents had died two years earlier, gave Sophie further pause. If it were Joy sitting here now, scared and feeling so alone, wouldn’t Sophie want someone to befriend her, too? “Yes,” she said softly. “I will.”

      “Oh, Miss Marlowe, thank you. Wh-when do you want to do it?”

      Sophie had book club tonight, but tomorrow was free. “Why don’t I come by tomorrow night? Say about seven-thirty? Will you be through with dinner by then?”

      Kaitlyn

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