“Wonderful. I’ll do that.” Her eyes twinkled, reminding Tia of Mrs. Claus as Aiyana squeezed Tia’s hand before slipping her arm through her son’s and letting him lead her away.

Tia watched them go before closing the door. She’d thought Seth and his mother’s visit would be awkward and difficult.

But nothing could be further from the truth.

“So? What do you think?” Seth asked once he and Aiyana were in the main house. “Is she going to be okay?”

“That’s hard to say,” his mother replied. “But she seems like a really nice young woman. It’s so unfortunate that this happened. Did she tell you what made her run that stoplight in the first place?”

He sank onto the sofa, and she sat in the leather easy chair not far away. “She told me she doesn’t remember.”

“She probably doesn’t. It’s obvious she hit her head pretty hard.”

“Maybe there’s nothing to remember. It’s not uncommon to miss a traffic signal.”

“Generally, that’s true. But in LA—where there’s so much traffic?” she asked skeptically.

“Even in LA. She could’ve been messing with the stereo, eating, or checking something on her phone. She could even have sneezed at the wrong time.”

Aiyana grimaced. “I hope she wasn’t texting.”

“Regardless, we’ve all accidentally run a red light at least once in our lives. What happened to her could’ve happened to anyone.”

“The consequences of this are so severe,” his mother said, shaking her head in sympathy. “I wanted to ask about her family, but I figured that conversation was better saved for another time.”

“I get the impression her relationship with them is...difficult,” he admitted.

“What has she said about them?”

“Nothing specific. But she doesn’t plan on going back to Iowa for Christmas. I know that.”

“She couldn’t leave Silver Springs even if she wanted to, could she? She has to be here to take care of Maxi’s parrot.”

“I could manage Kiki for a few days. It’s that she doesn’t want to go.”

“What about her friends? People she’s worked with? No one is staying in touch with her?”

“Hard to say, Mom. I just met her myself. It might be difficult for her to talk to those people at the moment.”

“Movie stars are so dependent on looks—at least the type of leading roles she must aspire to are.”

“Being around other industry people would only remind her of what she’s lost,” he agreed.

“And it’s possible she doesn’t know who she can trust.”

He shifted to get more comfortable “What do you mean?”

“I’m referring to the paparazzi. From what you’ve told me, Tia’s famous enough that photographs of her face, ones that reveal all the scars, would sell for a high price.”

“What kind of a friend would sell her out?”