Molly Prentiss stared into the open hood, silently willing the car to fix itself. She knew when she left Savannah that it was a longshot for a twenty-year-old Camry with 250,000 miles on it to get them all the way to Chesapeake without incident, but Molly left on a wing and a prayer. There wasn’t much else she could do. She had to get away. She could only hope that Dustin would be looking out for them from above, wanting to protect herself and Timmy. Except if that was the case, how did she explain J.D? No, sadly, Molly couldn’t count on Dustin looking out for her, or their son, anymore.

“What’s wrong with the car, Mommy?”

Molly hadn’t even realized that Timmy had gotten out of the car and was standing beside her.

“I’m not sure, honey. Maybe a pump or a belt or something.” She knew nothing about cars. That was always Dustin’s domain. All Molly knew was that the old Camry was nearing the end of its life, or perhaps was already there, and that’s why they were now stranded on the highway along the coast of South Carolina, God only knew how many miles from their destination.

“Get over here on the other side of me,” she cautioned her son. “There are other cars passing by.” Maybe they could hitch a ride somewhere. On second thought, no. The mere thought of it made Molly shudder. She still suffered nightmares from watching that movie about the psycho hitchhiker who tortured the poor driver who offered him a ride. Okay, in this case, she’d be the one doing the hitching, but who was to say the driver who offered the ride wouldn’t be psycho?

No. There would be no hitchhiking. Molly looked around, and that’s when she spotted the sign.

‘Happy Endings Resort, 1 mile.’

She’d never heard of it before, but she liked the name, and hey, at least it was close. If nothing else, maybe they could stay there for a night, maybe two, until she could get the car fixed and make it the rest of the way to Dustin’s parents’ house in Chesapeake.

“C’mon, kiddo. Grab your backpack from the car. We’re going for a little walk.”

“Where to?”

“To the Happy Endings Resort.” Molly got her purse from the car, Dustin’s old army pitch tent, and the small duffle bag that contained a change of clothes for each of them, along with a toothbrush. It would have to do for now. She couldn’t lug a suitcase with a broken wheel along the unpaved road all the way to the resort. She reached for Timmy’s hand. “Let’s go. It’ll be a new adventure.” What was that saying about being the first day of the rest of your life? That was exactly how Molly felt. She might be a long way from Chesapeake, and with a broken-down car, but she was free of J.D. And there was no way he could find her in some out of the way campsite off the South Carolina coast, right?

They trudged along the gravel packed road for what seemed to be far longer than a mile, until they found the campground. The Happy Endings Resort. Was it an accurate name, Molly wondered? Did people find their happy ending here? She wouldn’t object to a happy ending, of course, although an escape and a fresh start were foremost in Molly’s mind. Besides, what if she already got her chance at that happy ending with Dustin? She thought she had, but it was cut short, and the end was anything but happy. Did that mean there was another one waiting for her, or was there a limit on the number of happy endings one got in a lifetime? Had she already used up hers up?

What a depressing thought.

They passed cabins, tents and trailers—some luxurious and others ramshackle—before locating the rental office. Molly heard a chime as she pulled the door open, and even though she didn’t see anyone working behind the counter right away, it was only a matter of seconds before a young girl with purple and blue tinted hair emerged from behind a curtain.

“Hiya,” she greeted, chomping on gum. “Welcome to the Happy Endings Resort. I’m Summer. Can I help you?”

Molly stared at the wood floor before meeting Summer’s eyes. “I hope so. My car broke down out on the main road, and I figure it’s too late for a tow, so I was hoping maybe I could stay here for a night or two,” Molly said. Or longer. If the car repairs were expensive, she might be stuck here for a while. She’d either need to get a job and earn some money, or ask Dustin’s parents to send her some, and she didn’t want to do that. The past eighteen months had been rough, but she still had some pride and self-respect left. J.D. hadn’t ripped everything from her.

“Sure thing. We’ve got cabin rentals starting at $54.95 a night. Trailers are a little more. Or if you’re interested in a more basic camping experience, you can pitch a tent for $19.95,” Summer said. “That includes access to the pool, tennis courts, and of course, showers and toilets.”

“A pool?” Molly could see Timmy’s eyes light up. “Can I go swimming?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” she told him, before turning back to Summer. “It just so happens I have a tent with me, and with the car situation, I’d like to save some money if I can. I think I’ll rent a space for a tent, if that’s okay?”

Summer nodded. “Absolutely. Just one night, or do you want to do the three-night special, which takes the cost down to 17.95 per night?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Molly said, “Let’s do the three.” She could get her bearings and figure out what to do with the car. If nothing else, they’d have an obscure place to hide for a few days. She reached into her purse and fished her wallet out. “I’ll pay cash, if that’s okay?” It would just about clean her out, but she didn’t want to risk the credit card. Besides, it was almost maxed out, anyway.

Summer shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Works for me. I’ll just need you to fill out this rental information card for me.” She slid it across the counter, along with a pen with a sunflower taped to the end of it.

Molly picked up the pen and glanced at the card. She could use Dustin’s parents’ address in Chesapeake, but she knew if J.D. were looking, he’d start under her married name of Prentiss, or her maiden name of Jacobs. No. That wouldn’t do, but she couldn’t be hesitant about her name, either. That was sure to arouse suspicion. Deciding quickly, she scribbled in Marshall, which had been Dustin’s middle name. Molly Marshall. It had a decent enough ring to it.

She signed the card with her new, sort-of made up name, and passed it back to Summer along with three twenty-dollar bills.

Summer counted out the change. “Okay, you’re all set. I’m putting you in tent slot number nine, and here’s a map to show you where to go.”

Lucky number nine. That’s what Dustin had always said, since his birthday had been September 9, 1989. “Thanks. I just put up my tent and I’m good to go, then?”

“Yep. Or if you need help, you can always ask the mysterious author in the cabin next door,” Summer said. “He’s pretty sexy, but kind of reclusive and weird, too.”

Weird. Just what she needed. On the other hand, people thought J.D. was a dream come true, and he turned out to be a nightmare. A reclusive, antisocial writer for a neighbor didn’t sound too bad.