It’s a fair trade. It’s what they’d always said to each other when they were teens and negotiating a swap of possessions. Her guilt about leaving Nick alone collided with her disbelief. “Nick isn’t a Dolly magazine or a T-shirt!”

“Neither were Dylan or Eric.”

Old regrets chilled her. “We were young and stupid.”

“Eric didn’t cause us any problems and we lived with Dylan for a year without ever fighting over him once.”

Libby’s mind melted. “Are you saying you thought Nick … that the six of us could be one big polyamorous family?” Her own incredulity was answered by the look on Jess’s face and Libby sat down hard. “Oh my God, that’s why you wanted Sulli’s house.”

Jess stiffened. “I don’t get why you’re so surprised. You begged me to come back to the bay. You told me over and over how I was a sister to you and that Nick and you were my family. How our kids would grow up together and Leo wouldn’t be an only child. It was everything I wanted for him. Everything I wanted for me. Of course I came back and took it. I didn’t have the strength to refuse it.”

“And what? You never thought I’d be upset when I found out who Leo’s father is?”

“Mi casa es su casa. Friendship first.”

It was the pledge they’d made at thirteen. An immature commitment before either of them had any idea how complex and difficult adult life could be. But they’d grown up and recognized the naivety of such a declaration, hadn’t they? Libby had. It was unimaginable that Jess still believed in those simplistic adolescent words.

Except the wounded look on Jess’s face clearly told Libby she not only believed the words, she blamed Libby for breaking the pact and damaging their friendship.

The lunacy of it spun her head. Why would Jess think this was normal? Who thought like that? She groped for examples from family and friends and came up empty-handed. Patients? A few snippets of faded psychology lectures dribbled into her mind—arrested emotional development due to childhood trauma. Her mother had survived. Her mother’s sister hadn’t. Jess was like Karen—tough, a survivor. But Linda hadn’t beaten Jess, she’d just drunk herself to death. Jess wasn’t traumatized and damaged—she’d got out and thrived. By twenty-two, Jess had left life with Linda and poverty far behind.