But the betrayal she must’ve felt when she saw those empty bank accounts—that, he didn’t fully comprehend. And his suspicions about JoEllen Chambers were only going to make it worse.

Louisa, you shouldn’t have sent that invitation.

“I think I’ve done a pretty good job bouncing back.” There was defensiveness in her voice.

“You did, Mom,” he said. “We’re all doing just fine. But coming back here—it’s not going to be easy. I’m afraid all it’s going to do is set you back. A lot.”

“Why would it?”

He sighed. Because he’s everywhere. His laugh, it catches on the wind and plays on a continuous loop over the ocean. Here, you can’t push him out of your mind. You can’t forget. “It’s just hard, is all.”

“Well, you’ve always told me it would be good for me to move on, so maybe this is what I need. Closure. I’m glad you’re there.” She paused. “But you should’ve told me.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you . . . ?” She stopped as if trying to decide whether or not to probe him. He wasn’t sure if her hesitation was because she was worried about upsetting him or herself.

“What?”

“Have you seen anyone we knew?”

It wasn’t like she cared if he saw Brenda and Jonathan Singer, the people with the yippy dog who had lived next door. She didn’t want to know if Dr. Smithton and Mary Beth Jeffries were back in town. She meant Louisa. She meant Warren and JoEllen.

“Yeah,” he said after too many seconds of silence. He refrained from telling her he’d spent the afternoon holding Louisa in his arms. She wouldn’t understand. “Why did they become the enemy, Mom? They didn’t kill Dad.”

Now she was crying. She thought she was going to come here and go to a party on the beach and have zero feelings about it? Was she crazy?

“You said it yourself—it was an accident.”

“It was senseless,” she said.

“It wasn’t her fault.” He realized he actually meant it. He didn’t blame Louisa. He had for a long time, mostly because he needed to—but going in the water that night, it had been his choice. And it had been his father’s choice to go in after him.

“We shouldn’t talk about this,” his mom said.

“You shouldn’t come to the party,” he said.

“I already sent in the RSVP.”

“Mom, they’re all here. And there’s something else.” He really didn’t want to have this conversation. He wanted her to go back to her life in Chicago and let her imagine he was still in San Diego. But he couldn’t escape it—and he knew she deserved to know.

“What?”

So he told her. About the memorial and the note on the back of it.