“No, Cole isn’t being picked on.” Rhea’s smile shrank. “I’m afraid he’s the one doing— But ‘picking on’ isn’t the term I’d use.”

“Excuse me?” Barbara felt her face flush. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Well, there have been several things in the past couple of days.” Rhea’s tone was cautious now, which made Barbara more nervous. “Things that are totally out of character for Cole.”

Barbara dropped down hard onto a chair. Don’t be defensive, she told herself. Even if Rhea was wrong—which she was, Barbara had never been called in to speak about her children—she clearly believed what she was saying. She was trying to be helpful. And jumping on her wouldn’t be persuasive.

“I’m sorry, exactly what is it you think Cole did?” Barbara asked, trying to sound merely interested.

“Not listening, talking back, being disruptive.” Rhea ticked them off as though they were the tip of a much more ominous iceberg. “He wouldn’t sit for morning circle on Thursday, and then he left the classroom on Friday without permission. He was standing right outside the door when I followed him out, but it took several minutes to get him back inside. I got worried I’d have to physically carry him. With another child, I might not think much of any of it—at least not any one incident. But now it’s something of a pattern, and Cole is always so sweet and well behaved. He’s the one I count on being helpful when everyone else is falling apart.”

“That’s certainly the Cole I know,” Barbara said, glad they were in agreement on that point.

“Could there be maybe— Has there been, perhaps, something going on at home? A job change or a death in the family, some stressor of some kind?” Rhea’s mouth was open, her lips parted in an O. She blinked her doe eyes a few more times before looking down into her lap. “For someone as sensitive as Cole, I’m not sure it would take—”

“Cole’s not sensitive,” Barbara snapped. She couldn’t help it. What Rhea was suggesting sounded an awful lot like a personal attack. It would make anyone defensive. “Anyway, there’s nothing ‘going on’ in our home.”

The worst part was that there could be something: the bureau. More specifically, her and Steve’s silly fight about it a few weeks earlier.

“How could you just forget?” Barbara had shouted when Steve got home that night. Barbara’s dad, Al, had been threatening to move an old bureau on his own for weeks, and Steve was supposed to make sure that didn’t happen. “You promised, Steve. He’ll have another heart attack if he moves that bureau!”

Steve hung his head, eyes closed. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he’d said quietly, hands raised in surrender. “It completely slipped my mind.”

Forgetful, that was her husband. Ever since Steve had taken over as chief of police six years earlier, things had been slipping his mind. Barbara sometimes even wondered if Steve was using the promotion to spend less time with her. He was always kind, and they rarely argued, but lately he was so much more passionate about his work than about Barbara.

Now, of course, Barbara worried that Steve’s distraction had nothing to do with his job. She was worried it was about her.

Barbara had been sure she was imagining it the first time she’d spotted the woman downtown. Barbara had followed her for seven blocks to be sure she was imagining it. But no, Barbara wasn’t seeing things. It was definitely her, returned after all these years, still looking like an overused prostitute. And how long had she been back in Ridgedale? Weeks, months? Festering out of sight like a nasty staph infection. Barbara hadn’t mentioned her to Steve. Nothing good would have come of that. But it had been weighing on every interaction she’d had with him since.

“I sent you two texts today, reminding you about that stupid bureau!” Barbara had shouted, feeling angrier and angrier.

Even after twenty years of marriage, it was amazing how fiercely you could argue without having to admit what you were really angry about. And that was in a good marriage, with a husband you loved. Because Barbara did love Steve so very much. More than anything.

“I’ll go right now,” Steve had said, picking up his keys.

Not yelling back, not looking angry. Like he was some beaten-down manservant instead of a man who loved his wife. It only made Barbara angrier.

“Right now?” Barbara had pointed at the clock. “It’s almost ten p.m., Steve. My parents are asleep. If my father’s not already dead!”

“Who’s dead, Mommy?” Cole had asked from the doorway. He had his stuffed dinosaur tucked under his arm like a briefcase. He hadn’t seemed upset, though, only mildly curious.

And that argument couldn’t have anything to do with Cole’s behavior now. He hadn’t seemed like he’d remembered it the next morning. More to the point, that had been three weeks ago. What Rhea was describing was recent, the past several days.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest—” Rhea shook her head, smiled awkwardly. Barbara was glad she was uncomfortable. She couldn’t go around throwing out accusations about people’s families and expect there not to be consequences. “Perhaps it’s best to focus on a plan of action.”

“A plan of action? Isn’t that a bit extreme?” Barbara squinted at her. “This behavior may be out of character for Cole, but it’s hardly outside the bounds of normal.”

“This morning Cole shoved Kate off a chair.”

“An accident,” Barbara said. “Obviously.”

“Kate is okay, thank goodness,” Rhea went on like Barbara hadn’t spoken. “Nothing some ice and a Band-Aid wouldn’t fix. But it could have been much worse. She was standing on the chair, trying to reach a book, which she shouldn’t have been doing. But if she’d fallen in the other direction?” Rhea put a hand to the back of her head, as if imagining the blow to Kate’s head. She shuddered.

“Cole wouldn’t do something like that unprovoked,” Barbara said, though she couldn’t imagine him doing it period. “The children must have been having some kind of argument.”

“They honestly weren’t. I saw the whole thing. Cole just walked right up behind her and . . .” Rhea looked out into the distance, her face empty and stunned, like she was seeing it happen in front of her. “He just pushed.”

“No,” Barbara said. She meant that unequivocally. “That’s not possible.”

Rhea was looking at Barbara sadly. Almost like she felt sorry for her. Barbara’s face was hot as she crossed her arms tightly. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of this?”

“I didn’t want to upset you unnecessarily. As you know, these things often pass. Especially with a child like Cole. But now, unfortunately, the situation has changed.”

Barbara pulled her chin back sharply. “What does that mean?”

Rhea took a deep breath and stiffened in her chair. She met Barbara’s eyes reluctantly. “With an incident like this with Kate, we have to consider the safety of the other children.”

“Safety?” Barbara laughed. But she could see from the look on Rhea’s face that she wasn’t joking. “I’m sorry, but this is absurd. I’ve seen some of the other boys in class. And you’re worried about Cole? Will, for instance—he’s the one who’s out of control.”

Barbara hadn’t meant to mention anyone by name, certainly not Will. The last thing she needed was Stella getting wind of that. But Will was something new in Cole’s life. He’d been over to Will’s house several times in the past few weeks, each time, at Stella’s insistence, without Barbara. Barbara had probed for details afterward. What did you eat? Where was Will’s mother? What did you play? But Cole was only five. God knew what he’d left out.

“Barbara, I know this is confusing and unexpected. But there’s no need to panic. I’ll speak to Kate’s parents, let them know what happened. They’re very sweet. I can’t imagine them wanting to pursue the matter.” There was such unbearable pity in Rhea’s voice. It was making Barbara light-headed. “For now we’ll just take some basic precautions.”