The car stopped at the base of the hill, where the ancient house awaited her. The peeling white paint, the patchwork shingles, and the junk in the front yard had not changed from the last time Samantha had seen the house eight years ago. When she squinted, she could see her and Joseph as teenagers sitting on the front porch, hand-in-hand.

She pulled into the driveway behind the sedan Joseph had once driven. For a moment she sat in the front seat, letting the memories wash over her. Then she squeezed her belly from beneath the steering wheel and climbed out of the car. She turned to the backseat and told her passenger, "Stay here. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Samantha limped towards the front steps, her ankles swollen and throbbing from the long plane ride and the drive from Bangor to Seabrooke. Her back joined in on the aching; she paused at the front steps to rub her sore muscles. Despite the pain, she smiled with glee at the prospect of coming home.

She knocked on the front door and waited for someone to answer. She counted off two full minutes before knocking again. When no one answered after another two minutes, she tried the doorknob. The door was locked.

Samantha checked her watch: five o'clock. She'd told her they were coming this afternoon. Where had she gone? She probably went out to get something for dinner, Samantha thought. She won't mind if I let myself in. Samantha needed to sit down soon before her back locked up. Although only two months from her twenty-sixth birthday, her swollen body felt more like a sixty-year-old's.

She reached into her short-cropped hair for a pin, hoping her puffy fingers were up to the task after so many years. She inserted the flattened pin into the door lock, wiggling it around until she heard a click. Samantha pushed the door open with a sigh of relief that she still had the touch after all this time.

She waddled into the front hall, remembering the day of Prudence's sixteenth birthday when Samantha and Joseph had kissed right here. That day had ended in disaster, but had also led them to find happiness together. If not for Veronica, Samantha might never have gone to California with Joseph. She put both hands on her bulging stomach at the memory of her former best friend.

From upstairs, she heard the sound of rock music. Either she was home or she had left the stereo on before going out. The pulsing bass shook the walls of the old house, reverberating through Samantha's head like a jackhammer. The last thing she wanted to do was climb up stairs in this condition, but the loud music had already caused her head to chime in with its own pain.




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