“Do you have money? Some place else to go?” I interject, going for gentle but failing.

Her eyes cut to me like I have no business asking the question as if she hasn’t just barged in on our family.

“That’s a bit insulting,” she huffs, cutting her eyes to Marina. “He’s a little old for you, huh, Marnie?”

“Answer him, please.”

“Yes, I have money.” She rolls her sky-blue eyes. “I always find a place to go. We Strange girls know how to survive and thrive. Right, Marnie?”

Marina’s eyes catch mine, her smile gone. The easy afterglow of our incredible night together vanishes into sad resignation, like she expected this. As if the universe routinely whacks her down the second things go well. She looks completely lost.

Lost over what she lost.

“Did you even keep my letters?” her mom asks, disappointed. “Was I really that bad?”

“You left her.” I scoff—this woman is another version of fucking Cora, all judgments and manipulations. “It was your job to be her mother, not her job to bother with your shit apologies. Don’t put this on her.”

Her hands go up in a wall. “Alright, beefcake. No need to get upset. I’m fully aware of the million and one ways I let Marnie down. That’s why I’m here—to make up for it. But that’s between us. We’re family.”

“My name is Grady. Stop throwing the word family around like you know what it means. Family would’ve been by her side the day she was hurt. Family never would have left her in the first place.”

She winces and shuffles backward, and I immediately regret my harshness for Marina’s sake, especially when her hand goes to my arm to stifle me.

“Grady,” Marina breathes out, “please. Mom, give us a minute.”

Leonie wanders over to Tilly and sits beside her on the porch steps.

“Look, I’m sorry.” My hand rakes over my head. “I don’t mean to be a jerk, but please don’t be nice to her. She’ll move in and take over. You should say no.”

“Would you? Would you say no, Grady?”

No, of course, I wouldn’t. I don’t even say no when I should. I hang my head, bothered. “Fine. I’ll play nice.”

“Good.” I move toward the house, but Marina drops her hand onto my chest, stopping me. “Um, could you take Wren home? I’ll, um, reach out later. Catch a few fish for me, eh?”

“Wait, what? You want me to leave?”

“I should handle this alone,” she says.

“I disagree. She’ll take advantage. She already is. You aren’t responsible for her.”

“That’s a bit hypocritical. Don’t you think?”

My shoulders slump in a frustrated sigh.

“Please give me time to assess this situation. She’ll be more open without someone else around.”