Harper had a plan. It was a well-thought-out plan. A plan she formulated in the backseat of her mom's Rolls Royce. As the two were being chauffeured through the twisty roads of Evening, Harper sounded out her mom chattering away on her cell about next week's itinerary and peered out the window at the curtain of greenery lining the road only interrupted by the iron-wrought gates acres apart from each other.

It was going to be an easy plan. She didn't need a scheme to root out her friend's secret. It was Isabeth. They'd been friends for years. Their families ran in tight circles. Her mom, Isabeth's mom, and Faith's mom used to be friends in college. They have a fabric of familiarity woven throughout their makeup that nothing can dismantle. Not even an illicit affair with a school therapist and a secret love child. Harper knew Isabeth would be honest with her. Faith would blow her off and tell her she was being a naive child but not Isabeth.

Isabeth'll be forthcoming, be truthful. That's why when Dunphy eased the sedan to a stop in front of The Oleander Estate Harper jumped out before he could open her door. She ran up the stairs, shouting out a hey to Randolph as he greeted her 'good evening'. She didn't have time to entertain the pompous butler who believed he was better than all the other staff because he'd been with the Harper clan for years. She slammed her bedroom door behind her and changed out of her work clothes faster than Batman en route to save Gotham City. She whizzed past Keegan begging to play tea party with her muttering later and proclaimed an 'I will' when her mom told her to be back before dinner. Harper grabbed a carrot that Noah finished peeling and hurried to the garage, grabbed her bike, and began pedaling.

Reaching Isabeth's gravel driveway she dropped the bike down realizing she was out of shape. Skipping out on a hiking or anything that required more physical exertion than getting out of bed and walking to the car had come back to haunt her. She gasped in breaths as she stumbled up Isabeth's porch making a mental note to have Dunphy pick her up. There was no way she was about to cycle back. Lance Armstrong, she was not.

Harper heard Delilah's barking before she even rapped her knuckles against the plum-painted door.

"It's open!" Isabeth's yelled voice leaked from the other side of the door.

Harper twisted the crystal knob and revealed in the cool air tinged with rose and ylang-ylang hugged her tepid skin, "You think it's safe to leave your door unlocked?" She asked shutting the door behind her and locking it as Delilah gave her a prerequisite sniffing. "It's not all that safe around here, anymore." She gave the Doberman a generous pat on the head before journeying down the hallway that led to Isabeth's room.

"What!" Harper heard Isabeth shout over the infectious R&B pulsating from the built-in speaker system through the house. "What you say?

Harper followed her friend's voice like breadcrumbs. Delilah trailed behind her as she walked down the hallway and into Isabeth's room. She brushed her eyes around the empty room, admiring the maturity of her friend. Isabeth had her own home; tidy and aromatic. She kept the food stocked in the fridge, cared for three horses, and still arrived on time for her internship. Harper shook her head at herself. She'd never had that responsibility. The chef prepared her breakfast, the maid cleaned her room, and if she wasn't riding with her mom she'd be late to the office every morning—was it normal to wake up before nine during the summer, Harper didn't think so. She equated it to pure torture.

"I said..." Harper leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom. "Are you sure you should be leaving your door unlocked? Two disappearances and one death, Evening's no longer a sleepy little town of the rich and lackadaisical anymore."

Isabeth, in a green silk robe, stopped dragging the mascara brush through her already long eyelashes. "Locked doors don't make you safe." She judged the precision of her eyelashes and then moved over to her other eye. "But Delilah's got this place under control."

Maybe Faith should've had the pooch with her then, Harper thought glancing over her shoulder at Delilah circled up by the bed. She turned back watching Isabeth flick through eyeshadows in her cosmetic bag. The bottom of the bathtub was still coated with foamy bubbles and the fruity shower gel clung to the steamy air.

"Where are you going?" Harper forged in the turquoise bathroom, hoping Isabeth pulled the curtains while she bathed. Patio seating outside the master bath and wide windows near the tub was beautiful but no one knew what was lurking in amongst the trees that were in the backyard. "Hot date."

Isabeth's hands stilled and her face went dark.

"Did I say something?" Harper hopped on top of the counter, letting her yellow Converse feet swing. "You and Alex broke up?"

"No." Isabeth sniffed as she fitted on a plastic smile raising her eyes to Harper, "Alex is fine. We're fine." She dropped her gaze back to the cosmetic bag and pulled out a lipstick. "Troy's back. We're going out for dinner. You should come."

"Nah," She peered ahead out the window over the bathtub. "It's a family dinner night. I can't."

"Oh! Yeah, it's Tuesday." Isabeth popped the top off the lipstick and revealed a rich chocolate hue. "Why are you here." She smiled and this time Harper could tell it was real. "Shouldn't you be peeling, chopping, or shredding something?"

"You know I can't cook." She side-eyed her.

Isabeth mashed her lips against each other, then inspected the shade upon her lips in the mirror. "What do you mean....you make the best apple pie. I promise it's the best I ever had."

"That's the only thing." Harper twisted on the countertop, facing Isabeth. The was a lull in the conversation as Harper watched her friend finish making up her face. Makeup wasn't something Harper dabbled in, which some people found strange given her mom owed the number one cosmetic company in the world for women of color but it just was for her. However, she did love watching people put it on. It was an art to her and it was a soothing process to behold.

As Isabeth took her hair out of the high bun, Harper opened her mouth, "I have to ask you a question...and I won't judge you but I need you to be honest with me."

"Harper..." Isabeth smirked finger-combing her slightly curled but still straight mane, "What are you up to?"

"I need to know..." She glued her gaze to her friend. "Is Teddy your baby? Did you have an affair with Dr. Russell?"

Isabeth's eyes darken and her eyebrows bunched together. She kept her eyes trained on the mirror but Harper knew she was glaring at her. Her breath quickened and her chest rose and fell rapidly.

"I won't tell anyone." Harper reached to comfort her but Isabeth pulled away. "You can trust me."

"It's not about trust." Isabeth angled her body towards her with a storm churning in her mocha eyes, "You need to mind your own business, Harper."

"We're friends." She nervously smiled, "Your business is my business." Her voice went hollow at the end of her statement from the intensity Isabeth was glaring at her. "Dalton was right! Your lying to me and you don't even care." She hopped off the counter, her caramel cheeks flustered. "You're blocking me out. You, Faith, and Fiona have always blocked me out, and silly me I thought...." She threw her arms up. "That since it's just us now you'd let me in but you still—"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Isabeth dismissively shook her head. "No one shuts you out. You just have different rules to abide by than us...your mom is present and she looks out for you."

"So, because my mom gives me a curfew and an allowance, I can't be trusted with all the inner workings of the group." Harper harrumphed, folding her arms. "That explanation is a little weak, Isa."

"You want to know the truth." Isabeth mimicked her stance but the extra inches she had on her made it seem more authoritarian. Harper quickly nodded and Isabeth inhaled a nasal breath before starting, " Well...too damn bad! Because some things aren't for you to know." Harper's mouth fell open as she took a step back. "Be mad at me all you want but I'm doing this for you. Our mess isn't yours so don't take it on...just go home, Harper, and have dinner with your family."

Her head tilted with indignation, "Are you serious?"

"Yes. Go!" Isabeth pointed out the door, "Go home and stop digging into our secrets." She latched her hand on Harper's shoulder with a softness cloaking her eyes, "Don't go poking the monsters lurking in the darkness. Let it go." She squeezed Harper's shoulder a little tighter, "Trust me...on that."

Harper shook her head taking a once long look at the girl she dubbed her older sister, "No. Je vil ikke!" and then she abruptly turned, storming out the room. 

"I don't understand that language!" Isabeth scoffed at Harper's retreating form. "But it better mean you're going home and minding your own business!" The thunderous door slam made it known that the nineteen-year-old wasn't listening to her.

 Harper climbed back on her bike knowing one thing, Isabeth was hiding more than a tryst with a school therapist. As she pedaled home she wondered what it could be. What could be worse than fooling around with a married man?

Was Isabeth right for not telling Harper about her secrets and sending her home?

Will Harper keep digging are leave it alone?

If you were Harper what would you do?