Cam’s phone rang, and he let go of me to answer it as we walked behind Rose. “What’s up?” He halted, so I did, too. “Are you serious? Have you tried Walt’s cell? Okay, I’m on my way.” He hung up and cursed softly.

“What’s going on?”

“Can we make a pit stop at Dad’s? Apparently Walt busted him from at-home-care jail a few hours ago, and Xander is losing his mind.”

“Absolutely.”

We pulled into the Danielses’ driveway about ten minutes later to find Xander yelling at Walt on the porch.

“At least they’re back,” I offered.

“Right,” he replied, killing the engine and getting out.

I checked to make sure the keys weren’t in the ignition and the e-brake was on. “Wait here,” I told Rose.

“Where are you going?”

“To make sure Camden doesn’t get in any more trouble your mom would ground him for.” I jumped down from the Jeep and headed up the stairs.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Xander yelled.

“That my best friend asked me to take him out, so I did.” Walt crossed his arms calmly over his chest.

Mr. Daniels sighed and moved to do the same, but he winced instead and put his arms at his sides. Cam’s attention focused on his dad.

“And you were okay with this?” Xander questioned, but I kept my eyes on Mr. Daniels, noting the way he shifted his weight.

“Well, he was on the approved list you left me, Mr. Daniels,” May explained. At least according to the schedule Cam had tacked on his fridge, it should be May.

“Well, he’s not anymore! How could you not tell anyone where you were going? Not pick up your phone?”

Mr. Daniels moved again, the same wince puckering his expression for a second.

He was in pain.

“Alexander, I don’t answer to you. You’re not my mother,” Walt stated.

“Enough, you two,” Cam growled. “Dad, what the hell did you do? You’re hurt.”

Art’s chin rose at the same moment Walt sighed. “Look, he wanted to.”

“Wanted to what?” Xander snapped.

Art unzipped his jacket and let it fall to the wooden porch. “My name is Arthur Daniels. I’m fifty-eight years old, and I have early-onset Alzheimer’s,” he said to Xander as he started unbuttoning his long-sleeve flannel shirt. “This here is Walter Robinson, who’s been my best friend since we were kids. That’s the babysitter you hired—I don’t remember her name because I just don’t care. Sorry, but it’s true.” He glanced at May and back to Xander. “You’re Alexander, my oldest son. That’s Camden, my second son. And that’s—” He saw me and paused, surprise flaring in his eyes. “That’s Willow Bradley—”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“Sullivan’s girl.”

FML.