He must’ve been quiet for an unusual amount of time because his mom said his name as if she’d said it already and he hadn’t responded. He shook away the shock and focused on her voice.

“I think it will be good for me,” she said. “I think it might be good for you, too.”

“Mom—”

“I know how you feel about everything, about your father, and I was angry for a long time—mad at God, mad at your dad . . .”

“Mad at me?”

She paused. “Honey, I was never mad at you.”

He wanted to reach out and grab those words, to pull them close and let them wash over him, taking away all the guilt and shame he’d been dragging around behind him like a too-heavy backpack. Instead, he slapped them away. Because he knew better.

“It was an accident,” she said quietly.

“But it was my fault.”

If she were here, she’d likely hug him and he’d stiffen at her touch. Because she could say those words a hundred times over, but he wouldn’t believe them even once.

“It was no one’s fault,” she said.

“Not even Louisa’s?”

The line turned cold on the other end.

“It was an accident,” she finally repeated.

It wasn’t something she’d ever said before. He’d always assumed she blamed Louisa because it was too painful to blame her own son. And let’s be honest, they all needed someone to blame.

“Are you sure you want to go to this party, Mom? You know the Chambers family will probably be there.”

She sniffed and he worried she was crying, but she quickly found her voice. “I need to do this, honey. I don’t expect you to understand.”

He didn’t expect her to understand what he was about to tell her either.

“Mom, I’m in Nantucket.”

If a jaw going slack had a sound, he’d just heard it on the other end of the line. “You’re what?”

“I got stationed here,” he said. “It’s not a top secret mission or anything—they moved me to help build morale, to bring about awareness for what we do here.”

“Why didn’t you say—?”

“Because I didn’t want to upset you. You’ve been through enough already.”

“I’m not a delicate flower, Cody. You can tell me these things.”

“Not about this,” he said. “Not about Dad.”

She cleared her throat. “It’s been years.”

“Well, it’s not like we’ve moved on.” He wouldn’t push, but it was true. She wasn’t over the way Daniel left, as if it had been his choice. She wasn’t over the fact that her life turned out nothing like it was supposed to.

He knew how that felt.