“Mom.” Louisa waited until her mother finally—finally—looked up. “Was there something going on?”

“Something going on with what?” Her father walked in, and Louisa noticed he’d put on a few pounds.

“Louisa thinks I was fooling around with Daniel Boggs.” Her mother rolled her eyes. Her father laughed that hearty laugh of his.

“I didn’t say I thought that. I was just asking if it was a possibility.”

Her dad started drinking a Diet Coke too.

“That will kill you,” her mother said with an air of condescension directed at Louisa.

“Life is killing me, Joey,” he said. “Why are you digging this up now, kitten?”

“Forget it,” Louisa said, feeling suddenly sheepish and regretting coming here in the first place. It was clear that her birthday wish the day she turned nine—I wish my parents would be like other kids’ parents—had not come true.

“Suit yourself,” her father said. He took a swig of soda.

“Did you know that when Daniel died, he had no money in his bank account?”

Neither of her parents answered for a moment.

“I don’t think we should be talking about this,” her mom finally said. “It feels wrong.”

“What feels wrong is that Mr. Boggs—Daniel—left his family with practically nothing. Doesn’t that seem a bit strange?”

Her father stiffened, the smile fading from his face. More wrinkles than last year, she noticed. “The market ebbs and flows. I’m sure if Daniel was low that week, it would’ve picked back up in a month or so. That’s the way it goes.” He took off his hat and fidgeted with it, avoiding Louisa’s eyes.

Louisa didn’t buy it. That’s not how it went when you had a family. You made sure there was enough money to at least see them through a few months of “low.” Especially someone like Daniel, who was arguably the best father Louisa had ever known.

“Leave this alone, Louisa. No good can come from poking around graves.” Her father’s face had turned serious, enough to almost convince Louisa to obey.

Almost.

He held her gaze for several seconds as if to punctuate his sentence and finally looked away.

Louisa couldn’t help but wonder what the man knew—because it sure felt like something.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

TWO DAYS AFTER THE BOTCHED ATTEMPT to take Louisa sailing, and Cody still couldn’t shake the image of her on the boat, struggling to get a breath. It was almost as bad as the image of her lifeless body on the deck of the cutter. That one haunted him at night—no matter how many times he tried to replace it with the image of her in that teal dress, looking just about as beautiful as a person could look.