It stung. Sawyer hadn’t said that for years, not since he was little and didn’t know better. Back then, our relationship was easier because it’s painless to forgive young kids, and they forget your sins as well. This teenage moodiness, I didn’t know what to do with it.

Be kind. It had to be so hard and confusing for him with his mom in correctional. I pictured Trish wearing an orange jumpsuit, picking up trash on the side of a road.

Anytime I thought Trevor was amazing, near perfect, I had to remind myself, once upon a time, he had picked her. There was some part of him that clearly had terrible judgment. Anytime I felt superior to Sawyer’s mom, I reminded myself that me and his ex must have something in common. He picked you too.

I’d asked Trevor what that commonality was. His answer was always the same. “Nothing. Before Sawyer, Trish was fun. Clean. No drugs, just money lust. After we had Sawyer, her money lust intensified, her selfishness sharpened. I wasn’t enough for her.”

I parked in our driveway. “I am not trying to replace your mom. I’m trying to help, that’s all.”

“Quit trying. I hate it.” His feet hit the pavement and he slammed the door.

I threw my arm over Sawyer’s empty seat and turned to Emily, ready to answer her questions about Sawyer’s anger. “How you doing, Em?”

She stared out the window, watching Sawyer march into the house. She sighed, her chest lifting and falling. “How does that lady have a pet cougar?”

“Good question.”

She turned to me with wild excitement in her eyes. “Imagine having a cougar in your bed.” Emily unbelted herself, opened the door, and bolted out. “I’m going in the back.”

“OK, Em. I’ll be back there in a sec. I’m gonna look for my phone.”

She stopped. “Oh, right. I can help you.”

“It’s OK. You go play. I’ll find it.” If it was cracked or if it wasn’t in the car, I might lose my temper. I didn’t want her to see that.

She darted to the side of the house.

I started in the back, with the doors open, in a lame push-up position, peering under the front passenger seat. The sun was still warm and golden, hanging low in the sky behind our house. The driveway was cast in shadows, making the car’s interior dark. I felt around with my hand on the dirty carpet, found a few mummified French fries and sticky coins, but no phone. I went around to the other side and did the same thing. Nothing but broken crayons and gum wrappers under the driver’s seat.

My knees on the back seat, my head resting on the scratchy carpet floor, I peered under the dark back seat.