Chapter One — if you haven’t read it.

CHAPTER TWO

Corrie was worried. Deirdre’s behavior was causing the worry.

She had been watching Deirdre withdraw, become more sullen, snap at her family over little things.

Could it be the natural changes that occur in a pre-teen girl? Corrie wondered. But, no, this seemed different.

Once, when she went to check on Deirdre in her room, she found the girl studying something in her hand, stroking it with the index finger of her other hand. Corrie spoke and the girl jumped. She hid whatever-it-was behind her back and snarled at Corrie to go away.

Corrie went back down to the kitchen. As she kneaded that day’s bread, she thought and thought. Push-pull-fold-turn, push-pull-fold-turn. The process of kneading dough was cathartic. It helped her concentrate. It released all the emotions she had been holding. Push-pull-fold-turn, push-pull-fold-turn. Something was very wrong with Deirdre, she knew. Push-pull-fold-turn, push-pull-fold-turn. Should she talk to the girl, or should she talk with Brian first?

A few days later, when the children were outside, Corrie went into Deirdre’s room. She opened the drawer in her bedside stand and saw the Golden Swan coin there.

Her heart stopped. Quickly, she slid the drawer closed and backed away. She swore that she had seen Deidre throw that coin into the sea, but there it was.

Corrie went out to find the children. The three of them were in the backyard. Michael and Kevin were playing a one-on-one game of tag. Deirdre was sitting alone on a bench, staring at the sky.

“Can I sit with you?” she asked the girl.

Deirdre shrugged. “I don’t care,” she muttered.

Corrie hestitantly began the conversation. “I’m concerned about you, Deirdre. You seem unhappy about something.”

“I’m fine,” Deirdre replied, emphasizing the word “fine” like it was the most distasteful word in the language.

Corrie reached over to put her arm around the girl, but Deirdre jerked away.

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” Deirdre said. “You wicked stepmothers are all alike.”

Corrie tried to protest, but Deirdre kept going. “You’re mean. You’re ugly. I wish you had never come here.”

Kevin and Michael stopped running. They looked puzzled and alarmed. They looked from Deirdre’s face to Corrie’s and back to Deirdre’s.

“C’mon, boys,” Deirdre said. “We’re going to the beach.” She grabbed Michael’s hand and jerked him along. “Without her.”

Kevin walked beside Deirdre, head down. Michael had no choice except to go with his sister, but he kept looking back over his shoulder at Corrie.