There was plenty of space between them, their hips weren’t even close to touching, and all they were doing was talking. But it was the way they were talking that made Barbara’s heart feel like it had been cleaved in two. Worse was the way Steve looked at Barbara as he tried to explain on the way back to his truck. His eyes were so filled with regret, not about what had happened but about what was going to happen. What Steve was helpless to stop.

“It’s okay,” Barbara had said, smiling hard and waving his explanations away like she didn’t have a care in the world. “You’re trying to help her, I know.”

Because the last thing in the world she wanted was for him to make excuses. She didn’t want to hear how much thought he’d already put into the whole situation.

“I do feel bad for her,” Steve had said once they reached his truck. And then he paused. There was a “but” there. But that’s not . . . Barbara had no interest in hearing the ending.

“Because you’re a nice guy, Steve.” She leaned over to kiss him before he could say anything else. “And that’s why I love you.”

As Steve carried Cole up to bed, Barbara sat down at the kitchen table with her coat still on. Their morning coffee cups were on the table, and there was unopened mail on the counter, and the pile of unfolded laundry and scattered toys. Ever since that meeting with Rhea, Barbara had been too distracted to worry about housework. After just a day of inattention, the house was falling into disarray. The mess couldn’t be helping Cole. Maybe it was making things worse.

Barbara jumped to her feet, snatched up a mug in each hand, and marched toward the sink, where the caked breakfast plates were piled up. Underneath were their dinner dishes from the night before in several inches of brownish, foul-smelling water. It was revolting. All of it. But she’d barely made it through dinner with Caroline after seeing that drawing—a drawing Cole seemed not to fully remember doing—never mind doing the dishes afterward.

She’d left it to Steve to get them an appointment with Dr. Kellerman in the morning. No matter what it took, she’d said before taking Cole up to bed. Steve surely had to pull strings, maybe throw his status around, to get them in so quickly. She was grateful he hadn’t felt the need to tell her about it.

Barbara was staring down at the disgusting filth when Steve came back downstairs.

“Well, he’s out cold,” he said with forced cheer, as usual trying to pump her up so he could sneak out the door. “If nothing else, that Dr. Kellerman sure knocks him out. Reason enough to go back.”

“I’m never going back there.” Barbara jammed her hands into the crowded sink. “And neither is my son.”

Why had she let herself think about that stupid party all those years ago? Because now here she was, about to have yet another fight with Steve without him knowing what they were actually fighting about. But she was suddenly so angry at him. Furious. All that history, he was responsible for every last page. Maybe if Barbara hadn’t been so distracted by her being back, she would have been paying more attention to whatever was happening with Cole.

As Barbara tumbled her hands around the sink, a glass stacked on top of one of the dinner plates slid off to the side. She grabbed for it, but it slipped through her fingers and shattered, the pieces vanishing into the grimy water below.

“Dammit!” Barbara yelled as she jerked off her coat and threw it on the floor. Then she grabbed the edge of the sink and started to cry.

“Whoa, hey,” Steve said as he came up behind her. She waited to feel his hands on her arms, but he didn’t touch her. “It’s going to be okay. Cole is going to be okay.”

Barbara turned around and pressed her face against his chest so she wouldn’t start screaming at him. Because everything seemed like his fault suddenly. She stayed there for a long time, until Steve finally patted her shoulders.

“You should get back to work,” she said, when he still hadn’t hugged her. Because that was what he wanted, wasn’t it? To get back to the job that Barbara was beginning to wonder if he might not love more than her. Anyway, if he stayed, she couldn’t be sure what she’d say. “I’ll be fine, really. I’ll be even better when I see you on the news announcing that you’ve arrested the person responsible for what happened to that poor baby.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t hold your breath.” Steve shook his head, then scrubbed his hands over his face.

Barbara took a breath: Make nice, ask about it. Steve hated it when she was cold, absolutely hated it. He didn’t ever say that, of course. Steve was never one to criticize, but he’d draw right back into that shell of his. And once he was tucked in there, it was impossible to pry him out.

“What about that girl in the hospital?” she asked.

He shook his head. “There’s something not right with that situation, given the way she took off,” he said. “But her baby isn’t that baby. Midwife swears she gave birth three weeks ago to an eight-pound baby. The ME isn’t ready to make an official announcement yet, but he’s sure the baby wasn’t that old.”

“But she ran away.”

“Who knows? Maybe your friend Stella put her up to that.” He was joking, that was clear. “Apparently, Stella really likes drama.”

“Drama? Who told you that?” Serious or not, he’d gotten the idea from somewhere.

“Oh, her friend Molly—Ella’s mom. The reporter for the Ridgedale Reader.”

“Did she mention Will or Cole? What did she mean, ‘drama’?”

“No, no, no.” Steve waved a finger back and forth. “I shouldn’t have even mentioned Stella. There’s no reason to think that she has anything to do with what’s going on with Cole.”

“But he heard or saw something somewhere, Steve. And it wasn’t here.”

“First of all, you’re deciding that’s true. That’s not what Dr. Kellerman said.”

“I know it’s true, Steve. Something happened to Cole when he was with Will. At his house.”

“Barbara, you can’t know that. Even Dr. Kellerman said it could be some kind of preexisting—”

“Steve, stop it!” Barbara shouted. “Stop making excuses so I won’t get angry at some woman you have no proof is innocent and who you don’t even know!”

His jaw set. He was losing patience with her. But that was it. That was as mad as he’d get. Soon he’d disappear, retreat. Off to work, into his precious shell. Sometimes Barbara would have done anything for him to start screaming at her.

“I’m not trying to protect her,” he said, the picture of reason. “But focusing on her instead of Cole isn’t going to help anything.”

He picked up his keys. Because he was going to go anyway, of course, whether or not Barbara needed him to stay.

“Promise me you’ll leave it,” he said. “That you’ll drop it with Stella.”

“Sure,” she said. And if he believed that—the way she’d said it—he was even more distracted than she’d thought.

“Did they help Cole?” Hannah asked the second she got home from school, looking around downstairs like she was trying to find him.

“Cole’s fine, honey,” Barbara said, specifically not answering Hannah’s question. “He’s tired and a little stressed, that’s all. How was the AP calculus practice test?”

Hannah shrugged. “Okay, I guess. It was kind of hard to concentrate.”

“‘Okay, I guess.’” Barbara mimicked Hannah’s shrug and her tone of voice. There were better ways to handle Hannah’s worry about Cole’s worry than mocking her. But Barbara wasn’t perfect. She’d never pretended to be. “Cornell may have accepted you early, but they won’t be very impressed if you don’t pass those APs you’ve promised them.”

“Sorry, I didn’t . . .” Hannah looked wounded. “I think I probably did okay enough. Thanks for asking.”

“Wait, it’s Wednesday, isn’t it? Do you have tutoring today?” Barbara hoped not. She’d been counting the minutes until Hannah got home so she could leave.