Sisters are meant to look after each other. But Josie and I have secrets. Just like our mother did.
My husband and I have moved back into my childhood home: a pretty stone cottage by the sea. Our two kids love the huge garden and the views are breathtaking. The renovations will probably cost twice what they said, but I know it'll be amazing in the end.
I'm baking a cake when the builder calls me over. 'We've found something.'
'What do you mean?'
'Bones,' he says. 'You've got bones buried at the bottom of your garden.'
The first person I call is my sister Josie. She'll know what to do. We've been there for each other ever since our mother walked out more than twenty years ago. We were just children. The only contact we had was a card on our birthdays—but they suddenly stopped when we reached the age of twenty-one.
We ask our father about the bones. What he tells us will shatter everything I thought I knew about my family.
