“Ev—I think she did see Mom,” Nic said, changing the subject. Giving him hope. “Do you remember how she always waved at us, when she couldn’t get our attention?”

“Both arms over the head? Like she was working the tarmac at JFK?”

Nic smiled. “Yeah. It was ridiculous, right?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Ev. What is it?”

“She did that at the game. She didn’t know I saw her, but after we scored a touchdown, she was standing and cheering and waving like that and it pissed me off because she looked so stupid.”

He could barely get out the last few words.

“Maybe she did know, Evan. Maybe she knew you saw her and that even though it pissed you off, it was because you know how much she loves you.”

“I guess. What made you think about that? The way she waves at us?” Evan asked.

“Edith Moore said that’s how she waved down this truck. And she even had her purse in one hand, so it was flying in the air as well.”

Evan’s voice was lighter now. “Usually it was with her phone in her hand. It was fucking ridiculous! We told her to stop.”

“I know! We did. Even Dad told her. She was so embarrassing.”

Nic felt her throat tighten with these thoughts, these memories, of their mother.

“And she saw the letters on the purse. That was never released to the press.”

“So she really saw her? She saw Mom that night?” His voice trailed off at the end. Was he crying? Had she made him cry?

“Ev . . .”

“Can you find the truck? Maybe she said something, told someone why she didn’t come home.” His words sounded fragile, their syllables broken.

“I’m trying, Ev. That’s why I’m here. Why I’m staying.”

“Okay . . . fuck. I mean, fuck this, Nic! Where is she?”

“I don’t know . . .” Nic tried to stay calm, keep her voice steady so she could stop him from unraveling. But it was too late.

“Why? What the fuck! Why did she leave us?”

Nic closed her eyes and took a long breath, thinking about what to say to him. Was it better that he believed their father’s lie? That the note had been authenticated? That their mother left them? Or should she tell him the truth—that now she didn’t know for sure, even if the police and everyone else in this town still believed it?

Not knowing meant their mother could be dead.

“Ev—listen to me,” she said. “It wasn’t because of the football game. It wasn’t because of anything you did.”