“We can only stay for a little while,” Deirdre said from the doorway. “Doctor’s orders.”

For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. Deirdre came up to Juliet and whispered something; my sister nodded. “Give your father a hug, Teddy. We’re going down the hall to see where they keep the cookies around here.”

“Cookies?” Teddy’s interest was piqued. “I get one for Daddy!”

When they left, Deirdre came closer. “How are you really feeling?”

“Half-dead.” My throat crackled as if someone had scrubbed it down with sandpaper. “You saved me.”

“You saved yourself,” Deirdre replied archly. “Turned out you didn’t need help.”

“Yes, I did. A lot of help, actually.” I took a breath. “I thought I was going to die, in that basement. I know this sounds dreadful, but I wasn’t sorry about that.”

“You have to stick around. Teddy needs his dad.”

“Does he? I can’t decide how I feel about that. It’s as if I’ll damage him by being there, yet I’ll also harm him if I’m not. I’ve caused him enough damage already, don’t you think?”

“You’re not the cause, Theo,” Deirdre said. “I wish you could’ve been honest, but I’d say the same thing about myself. Caro and I both tried to ignore our past. We pretended it never happened. But it was like a wall that divided us. We never dealt with it, so we never got beyond it.”

“My father always says what’s past is past. I thought I could keep everything buried. I wanted to keep it buried. I never wanted anyone to know the truth about me, least of all Caroline. She would think me a monster.”

Deirdre gave me her reluctant, lopsided smile. “The wonderful, terrible thing about Caro was that she could love a monster, even knowing he was a monster.”

“You think we would have reconciled?”

“Maybe you would’ve found your way back to each other.” Her face turned serious. “If you’d told me a week ago I’d be spending time with my father, I never would’ve believed you. I’ve never really trusted that people can change. I think maybe he has, or at least he’s trying to. Reagan said something that blew up my brain. She asked me what it would take for me to forgive him, and I said I would if he died.” Deirdre paused, as if contemplating it anew. “And Reagan said, ‘You believe he deserves the death penalty?’ And something clicked in my brain. I mean, I believe in rehabilitating people—at least theoretically. I still haven’t forgiven my father. But I also want to keep talking with him.”

“I’ll never forgive my father,” I said.