When they reached the front of Caitlin’s house again, Caitlin said, “Can I ask a favor?”

“Sure, anything.”

“Will you come in and spend the night? Not with me, but there’s a guest room you can sleep in.”

Harry hesitated, but Caitlin’s eyes, dark in the moonlight, were large with fear and anticipation, and he said, “Of course.”

Inside, she introduced him to her mother, who was standing in the kitchen, wearing a robe, and drinking a cup of tea. “Oh, Harry,” she said. “I’m so sorry about your father.” She looked like both of her daughters, but more like Grace, Harry thought, with her firm jawline and upturned nose. She had kind eyes. Harry told her how sorry he was about Grace, about how much he’d liked her in the short time he had known her.

“She was troubled, but she’d have turned it around. I know it.”

“She would have, Mom,” Caitlin said, and rolled her eyes slightly so that only Harry could see.

The guest room was on the second floor. Caitlin, suddenly hostess-like, showed him where the spare blankets were in the closet, and brought him a pair of pajamas that belonged to her brother, plus an unused toothbrush. “Pajamas are clean, I promise,” she said. “This is weird, me wanting you to stay here, isn’t it?”

“No, it really isn’t.”

“When do you think we’ll feel normal again?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “I don’t know if we’ll ever feel normal, but I think we’ll feel better.”

Caitlin shut the door of the guest room almost all the way closed, and kissed him. Her sweater was thin cashmere, and he could feel her ribs through the fabric, her heartbeat, the ridge of a bra strap. They kept kissing until there were footsteps on the stairs, and Caitlin opened the door wider, stepped out into the hall, and said to Harry, “Breakfast will be at the crack of dawn, unfortunately.”

“I heard that,” Mrs. McGowan said from the hall.

“Perfect,” Harry said.

After she left, he changed into the pajamas, texted Paul to let him know where he was, and slid into the unfamiliar bed. After turning the lamp off, he thought, There’s no way I’ll ever fall asleep here, but then the next thing he knew there was faint light coming through the curtains on the window, and he could smell bacon being cooked. He sat up a little in bed, and listened to the sounds of the house coming alive. He had slept through the entire night—a dreamless abyss of sleep. It was definitely strange that he was suddenly here, in Caitlin’s childhood home, but it was no stranger than anywhere else he might be right now. He had no real home.