A year and a half ago, when Dylan had turned sixteen, Mom had sent two thousand dollars to him for a car. They’d bought a small blue pickup truck.

“Oh, sure!” Rudy pretended he hadn’t forgotten. As was typical, he responded to Tess’s scolding like an amiable golden retriever. “But if it breaks down or something, I want him to know he can call me.”

This was a second marriage for both Tess and Rudy. Tess and her first husband had divorced. Rudy’s first wife had died. They’d married each other twenty-five years ago, when Tess was fifty-six and Rudy fifty-eight. Shortly after, they’d bought a vacation cabin in Misty River.

When Leah decided that she needed to move Dylan out of Gainesville, Tess and Rudy had encouraged them to move here. Leah had done so, and now the older couple spent the bulk of their year in Misty River, too. Tess had one son, and Rudy had two daughters. Combined, they had several granddaughters, but all their children and grandchildren lived out of state.

“Is the truck running well?” Rudy asked Dylan.

“Yeah.”

“How’s everything with your friends?” Leah asked.

“Good.”

“Really? No drama?”

“No.”

“Are you being cyberbullied?” Leah asked, only half kidding.

He snorted. His liquid chocolate eyes blazed disbelief. “No.”

“Busy trying to order prescription painkillers through the mail?”

“You can order prescription painkillers though the mail?” Rudy asked excitedly.

“Rudy,” Tess chided. “Eat your meal.”

“But—” Rudy said.

“And put your napkin in your lap.”

“Are you interested in dating any of the girls in your grade?” Leah persisted. Dylan was polishing off his food and would bolt in seconds.

“No.”

Should she believe him? Or should she add “teenage love” to her list of fears, right before guns and right after bomb-making?

He picked an olive off his slice and took his final bite. He’d picked the olives off since he was small.

“I wonder if he’s being cyberbullied,” Leah said companionably to Tess.

“I don’t believe so,” Tess said back. “No.”

Moving as if wearing a body that wasn’t quite the right size for him, Dylan rose and carried his dishes toward the kitchen. “I’m not being cyberbullied.”

“Are you sure, O love of my life?” Leah called after him. “No one’s heckling you?”

“I don’t even know what that word means,” Dylan said.

“Heckling means tickling,” Rudy announced.

“No,” Tess instantly corrected. “Heckling is abusive speech.”

“No one’s heckling or tickling me,” Dylan said loudly from the kitchen.

“Truly?” Leah asked. “No girls are tickling you?”

“I’m leaving to go hang out at Jace’s,” Dylan said.

Leah had vetted Dylan’s evening plans with Jace’s mom earlier. “Leave us here if you must, pining for your presence.”