And then I leave his room in search of his mother. She wasn’t in the living room when we got here, and I see Lucy’s night light on in her room, seeing her sleeping when I peek in. Tracy’s bedroom door is open, and I knock carefully, not really wanting to be near her bedroom. I don’t want to scare her or anything.

When she doesn’t answer, I go out to the back of the house where I know she hangs out. That’s where I find her, sitting in her rocking chair, reading on her Kindle. She looks up, worry crossing her puffy eyes. She’s definitely been crying.

“Kingston? Is Camden okay?”

I shake my head. “No.” She starts to get up, fear taking over her. But I shake my head and take the chair next to hers. “He’s going to stay if you don’t do something.”

“Stay?”

I huff angrily, trying to keep my calm. “Stay. Here. Where he hates it. He doesn’t want to be here. He wants to go to KU. He wants to go to college, and you need to make sure he goes.”

Tears fall down her face, but I don’t feel sympathy for her, not right now. I’m so angry at her for doing this to him. “I never asked him to stay.”

“You won’t tell the father of the baby you’re pregnant. You can’t do this alone, and he knows it. He’s so goddamn good that he’ll stay. You know he will. Unless you do something.”

She wipes at her cheek, choked up. “What can I do?”

“You can tell the father and make him help. You can at least try.”

She shakes her head sadly, more tears falling. “I can’t do that to him. He doesn’t want kids.”

“Camden is a kid.” I’m still trying to keep my voice down. “He never got to be a kid though. Ever. When we were all fucking around and doing whatever we wanted, he was helping you. With Lucy. With money. Everything. We used to give him a hard time for cleaning the house when we were playing video games because we didn’t understand.” I touch my chest, my eyes pleading with her. “We didn’t get it because we were kids. Oakley and me. Dean. We were kids. Camden never got to have that.”

“I . . .” she sobs. “I know. I hate it.”

“So fix it.” I can’t let her off the hook about this. I’ve held my tongue for so long. “You were both dealt shitty hands, that’s for damn sure, but he’s your kid. You need to be the adult, and you need to make sure he gets to live his own life. He won’t go unless he feels like you’re taken care of.”

“I don’t think I can make him go.”