I take a breath. The last week has been tumultuous for my best friend. “She insisted that Josh move out. She’s not sure how things are going to go with them. Josh called her yesterday with the name of a marriage counselor and begged her to go with him.”

“What did she say?”

“She told him to fuck off. She said if she wanted to talk to him, she’d call him, but he shouldn’t hold his breath.”

Corrine smiles. “I always liked Kim. For a tiny little cheerleader, she was always tough.”

“She is,” I agree.

Corrine sips her tea, drops her hand to Sadie’s head, and pats her. “How are you feeling?”

I shrug. “Still a little numb, I guess.” Corrine had been the first to rush to the hospital when the cops brought me out of the basement, and she’d been the first to hug me years ago, back home, when I huddled on Margaret Castleberry’s lap at the police station. I clearly recall her long, permed hair brushing my cheek and the smell of her Electric Youth perfume and the sight of her stonewashed jeans as she knelt in front of me. My parents were there, of course, but I don’t remember them saying much. This time they were there too, trailing behind Corrine, wringing their hands.

I pick up the business card Elise gave me, the one with Morgan Blanton’s name on it.

“Are you going to give her a call?” Corrine asks.

I tap the table with the side of the card. “Yes. That’s what Jay would want.”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t honestly know. But I’m willing to talk to her and see if it helps.”

“A lot’s changed, Molly.”

“Yes. It has.” The sound of heavy equipment draws my gaze out the back window. “Scott’s men must be here,” I say, and Corrine and I watch as two men in work clothes begin the process of tearing down the old garage.

“I want to tell you something,” Corrine says. “Something that’s been on my mind for a long time, but I’ve been too much of a coward to ever talk to you about it before.”

My eyes meet hers. “What?”

“That day. The day you were abducted, the first time.” Corrine stands and paces the kitchen. She comes to a stop by the sink and leans against the counter. “Mom asked me to watch you.” Her hand goes to her mouth, and her breath catches. “But I said no. I said that Julia Wentworth’s mom was going to drive us to Albany to go to the mall.”

“I know you went to the mall, Corrine.”

“But,” she sniffs back tears, “if I hadn’t gone to the mall, if I’d done what Mom had asked, nothing bad would’ve ever happened to you.”