“I came to see if Felicity wanted to go out for some girl time with me. Just us two. I was going to run down to the antique mall in town. Then maybe we could grab dinner out.” Debra turned to me. “You up for it? Dinner on me?”

I shrugged, not really interested in shopping, but even less interested in sharing space with my husband right now.

“Sure. Let me take the dog to the backyard and get her situated, and I’ll be right out.”

“We’re not keeping the dog!” Oliver hollered as I led the dog away.

“It’s too late—Eliot already named him,” I hollered back.

I walked around the side yard that led to a fenced-in area where the trampoline and playset took over one corner, and a stone outdoor patio jutted out from the back of the house. Opening the latch, I released Ploppy—name still undecided as far as I was concerned—into the yard and watched her run around, legs bounding, tail wagging, tongue lolling. I’d introduce her to the other dogs later this evening after she got acclimated—and after Oliver, as he always did, warmed to the idea of another fuzzy muzzle to feed.

After a wardrobe change out of my hair-covered scrubs and into a festive burnt orange sweater and high-waisted mom jeans—which I had once vowed never to wear and yet now lived in, thanks to Vera’s fashion advice—I slid into Debra’s car, debating whether to tell her about the strange phone call. When she started asking about Eliot and Oliver, I decided to keep it between myself and Detective Montgomery. The family clearly wanted me to move on, stop wallowing in anticipatory grief, forget my trauma. So I’d give them what they wanted and pretend everything was fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.

“Don’t worry too much about Eliot,” Debra was saying as we pulled into the parking lot, “kids are resilient. He’ll probably forget all about this by bedtime.”

“I hope so.” A question I hadn’t intended to ask aloud floated up and out. “Do you think Vera left because she overheard us talking about Sydney’s kidney match and didn’t want to donate to her?”

Debra parked and shut off the car before she answered. “I don’t know, honey. Do you really think that’s the kind of person she was—a girl who wouldn’t be there for her own sister when she was most needed?”