It was close to 8:30 p.m. when Phil pulled into the garage after dropping Logan’s friends at their prospective houses. As Lina followed Logan into the house, she hesitated when Phil called her name. He was still sitting in the car.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I have to go out for a little while. Someone screwed up at work, and I need to deal with it.”

“Was it Kim?”

A flash of surprise crossed his face. “I shouldn’t be longer than an hour or so.”

“Answer my question, Phil.”

“I have to go.”

Lina watched in stunned silence as he backed out of the garage and drove away. This wasn’t happening. Her husband wasn’t disappearing with barely an explanation on a Saturday night. She quickly called his cell phone.

“Lina,” he answered, “please just let me deal with this.”

“What’s going on? Are you on your way to the office?”

There was a long pause. “I need you to just let me handle it.”

“Is it work related?” she thought to ask. “Just tell me that.”

“I’m not prepared to answer any questions right now.”

“Not prepared?” she repeated, suddenly angry at his vague response. “I’m your wife.”

“You’re going to have to trust me.”

“Trust you to what?” She gripped her forehead as she struggled to maintain control. “Do I have to call Wayne to find out what’s going on?”

“Don’t do this, Lina. I’m about at my limit right now.”

“Oh, you’re at your limit? At least you know what’s going on.” She looked at her phone. He’d hung up on her.

Katie’s chest swelled with emotion at the sound of the soulful male vocalist, knowing before she and Emma reached the barn that it was Matt. He was standing at the center of the stage, his hand gripping the mic, his eyes closed as his haunting voice filled the air.

The band practiced for over an hour, stopping occasionally to discuss an arrangement, but Matt was mostly quiet, strumming his guitar, or scribbling notes on a pad, never once looking in Katie’s direction. As soon as they began putting away their equipment, Katie made her way to Matt, offering him a big cup of water.

“Thanks.” He tilted the cup back, the muscles of his throat constricting as he swallowed it down.

“You’re amazing,” Katie said, not caring if she sounded corny, because it was true, and she wanted him to know it.

“Yeah?” He met her eyes.

“I’m not just saying it to say it. I really mean it. You remind me of Dylan or Lennon or one of those guys.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, and she couldn’t tell if it was a pleased or amused smile. “I need some air.” He walked past her, taking a few steps before turning back. “You coming?”

“Yeah.” She followed him out of the barn and over to a bench, dropping down beside him.

“What’s your story, Hunter? Ryan said your parents grounded you for a year for doing drugs. That true?”