Whip grabbed him by the back of the collar and lifted him up off his blue suede shoes. “What’d I tell you before we got here, huh? Cass is family. My family. You steal from her, I break your little legs.” He glanced over at Ben. “He’s got to learn.”

Ben held his hands up, leaving the discipline to Whip.

Whip set Pouch down. “Now say you’re sorry and get out.”

Pouch bowed low with all the regalness of a knight in shining armor. “My sincerest apologies, Cassandra. It will likely never happen again.”

I watched as he strolled out the door.

“‘Likely’?” Whip called after him. “It happens again, and you’re a dead Pouch, how about that?” Whip gave me a conspiratorial wink. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Whip, we need to talk about this,” I said.

“We did. I got it. Don’t worry.”

Then he was gone. I stood at the door and listened as everybody made their way down the stairs and out the front door. I closed the door, locked it.

“He’ll be in touch about what?” Barb asked. “What went on in the kitchen?”

“Nothing. I’m beat. Going to bed.”

I headed down the hall to my bedroom.

“I know you’re hiding something,” Barb said.

I stopped, turned to face her, tired of all the tiptoeing around. “What are you hiding? What is it you’re not telling me? Are you in some kind of trouble? Do you need help?”

Her eyes widened. “No. NO. It’s nothing like that.”

That was a relief, one less worry. “Then what is it?”

She didn’t answer. She just stood there.

I sighed. “Then I’m going to bed. Good night.”

Behind me, I heard the door to the guest room open, then softly close.

Maybe I’d sleep, maybe I wouldn’t.

* * *

Barb wasn’t there when I woke up. She’d taped a note to the guest room door that kept it simple: Have a thing. Back later. We’ll talk. I had no idea what constituted “a thing” to a nun, and the possibilities for a nonconventional one like Barb could be varied and wide. And again with her wanting to talk? Was I really going to have to worry about all of my friends at the same time? I shoved the note in my pocket, and turned on my phone to find a text from Whip waiting for me.

He was planning on taking an early run at Fleet, the text said, and that he’d call me when it was done, but despite what he’d asked for, that he be allowed to go it alone, I showered, dressed, and headed for the West Side, determined to be there.