Lauren tried to force a smile. She managed to nod, but she still looked away. In the smallest, tightest whisper she murmured a thank-you.

Anne wondered if this was what Leah looked like behind the wall she had built around herself—terrified, eaten raw by the acid of grief and guilt and uncertainty. She suspected so, and a part of her wanted to broach the subject with Lauren, but Lauren seemed so fragile . . . She would tread as carefully as possible.

“That offer goes for Leah as well,” she said. “The two of you are in the same boat. You’re both dealing with the same situation, and you both have to feel like you’re drowning in your emotions. One of you can’t turn to the other, but both of you need to be able to turn to someone. You need a place you can open the pressure valve and get some relief—so does Leah.”

Anne could see the mom alarms going off in Lauren’s head.

“You said Leah was fine last night,” Lauren said. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing, really,” Anne said, cursing herself.

“Did she say something?”

“No. I’m just concerned because I know girls her age tend to go one way or the other. They’re either drama queens or they’re afraid to show anyone anything they’re really feeling. Leah falls into the second group, and the feelings she’s holding in have to be huge,” she said. “Keeping that all trapped and bottled up can be toxic.”

To say nothing of dangerous—and she said nothing of the dangers. She didn’t say that girls wound as tightly as Leah had a risk of turning to self-destructive behaviors—everything from alcohol and eating disorders to cutting and suicide. She hadn’t seen any evidence, but the threat was there, lying under Leah’s very controlled surface. Her mother needed to be aware.

“I know I’m not exactly Mother of the Year material,” Lauren began.

“I didn’t say that,” Anne said. “I’m sure you’re a great mom; otherwise Leah wouldn’t be the sweet girl she is. And I’m sure you love her very much. I’m saying when one blind person is leading another they aren’t going to get where they want to go without banging into some walls. Let someone who can see do the steering.”

She watched Lauren carefully, hoping she hadn’t pushed too hard.

She plucked a muffin from the basket on the coffee table and tossed it to Lauren like a ball, surprising her out of her tormented thoughts.

“I’m not letting you out of here until you eat that.”

Lauren looked at the muffin like it was something to dread, but dutifully broke off a little piece of the top and put it in her mouth.