As a boy, he’d rescued fish stranded in rock pools and shared his favorite snacks with her and Jake. As an adult, he was never too busy to throw a ball around with neighborhood kids who came by Alison and Joseph’s house when they saw Danny was visiting; he donated time to her foundation with such grace that the kids had begun to expect him to turn up at camp; and he was there for his family come rain or shine.

Danny deserved someone with a heart as generous.

Catie was terrified her own heart was too armored against pain and abandonment to ever be that open to anyone. Breathing harsh, broken, she gripped the edge of the sink, a roar of fear and need and hope in her ears.

29

DANNY, THE DASTARDLY KIDNAPPER

She was still feeling heavy when she picked up her car keys the next morning. It took her a second to see it: her demented raccoon dangle was missing. Her shoulders shook. “Idiot,” she said, affection in every syllable.

Trust Danny to choose the strangest possible thing to steal.

She said as much to Ísa when she met her sister at the café where they were having a late breakfast together to celebrate the beginning of Ísa’s sabbatical from her teaching position. “He knew I’d notice, but he also knew it’d take me a while. Smart aleck.”

Ísa’s gray-green eyes were soft with laughter. “I can’t believe you still have that. It looks like it got chewed by a rat.”

“I dunno. I guess I’m attached to it because…” Her smile faded. “Dad gave it to me after one of his trips.” Then she said something she’d never said even to her sister. “I suppose it’s a reminder of a time when he remembered I existed even when he was off gambling with his new woman.”

Her sister didn’t give her words of comfort. She knew Catie was long past that. She just reached out and squeezed Catie’s hand, “Tell me what else Danny said.”

Happy to talk on the subject, Catie told her about the apartment and the cute garden, then said, “How’s the sabbatical going?”

“Well”—Ísa glanced at her watch—“I’m officially two hours into it and all I’ve written so far is a text to you to tell you I’d found us a table.”

Catie laughed. “Oh, we had to kick it off in style.” Ísa could’ve long ago given up her job as an English teacher. It didn’t have anything to do with Sailor’s successful business either. No, Ísa was a unicorn in the literary world—a poet who made a livable income from her work.