He shook his head. “She didn’t. I know because every once in a while, she’d say something under her breath that made me think she didn’t love that JoEllen had a nickname for my dad. I think that’s why she refused to use it. That was what your mom called him when they dated, so my mom never called him anything other than Daniel.”

Slowly Louisa sat down in the armchair next to Maggie.

Cody sat across from her. “We don’t know anything, Lou.”

“But you think they were fooling around.”

Cody shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“They weren’t fooling around,” Maggie said. “They would never.”

“People do dumb things sometimes,” Cody said.

Louisa didn’t respond.

“No, Daniel loved your mom.” Maggie turned to Louisa. “And your mom loves Warren.”

“Cody’s right,” Lou said. “You can love someone and still do stupid things.” She met his eyes for a split second.

His pulse raced.

“I need a nap.” Maggie stood and toddled out of the room, disappearing as if it were perfectly normal to do so. She’d left Cody and Louisa alone, and he wasn’t sure whether to thank her or call for her to hurry up and come back.

Louisa found his eyes. “If I could do it over, I would.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about this.

“I mean it, Cody. If I hadn’t upset you, you never would’ve gotten in the water that night, and your dad never would’ve drowned.”

It was what he’d said to her after the accident—that it was her fault. Of course she still believed it was. If only she knew; if only he could take it back.

He stilled. He could go on blaming Louisa, but at night, when the lights were out and the demons were tormenting, it wasn’t her he was angry at.

“It was my fault,” he finally said, though he wondered if he’d spoken loudly enough for her to hear. He stared at his shoes, the rug underneath them, anything except Louisa’s eyes, which he could feel were focused on him.

“He told me not to go in. Did you know that?” He nearly choked on the words. He drew in a breath and glanced at her.

She shook her head quietly.

“He told me the water was choppy. The last thing he said to me was the very thing I disobeyed.” This all felt brand-new. How did he stop the pain?

She inched forward as if she wanted to touch him but wasn’t sure if she should. “It wasn’t your fault.”

But she didn’t know. She didn’t know that his father’s words had nearly kept him out of the water, but he’d made a purposefully rebellious decision, one he would change a thousand times over if he could.

He stood. “I should go.”