But Barbara had exhausted every other option already. And a hopeless possibility was still better than no possibility at all. The next evening, after a quick dinner, Barbara and Hannah headed to Brookshire.

“I don’t understand why we’re going there if we can’t afford it,” Hannah said.

“You and me both, baby. Somebody wants you to see the school. And I’m guessing they want you to see it and like it enough to get me to pay. It’s not gonna happen. Not in a million years. But at least we can hear the woman out.”

Hannah put her earbuds in and Barbara motioned for her to wait. “Don’t get too attached to this place. Act coy. Do you know what coy is?”

“Not really.”

“It means . . . don’t get excited. And if you do, don’t let her know. Play it cool.”

“Okay.”

Barbara hated to admit that every time she looked at Hannah, her stomach churned. Every time she saw those deep-brown eyes, she saw her daughter’s face. She saw the way Janet had squandered her life. She saw Hannah making bad choices and mistakes that would follow her, maybe for the rest of her life. Hannah was running for something just out of her reach.

The problem, Barbara knew, was that when she looked at Hannah and saw Janet, she also saw herself. Three generations along the very same path, though making very different kinds of mistakes along the way. Life for Barbara had become a nonstop loop where she worked all day and came home to her little house by the bend in the river. She had scraped up the down payment and moved in only to be too tired to enjoy the accomplishment. On so many levels her life was one step forward and one step back down a flight of stairs. Here she was again at the bottom landing trying to pick herself up.

Her marriage had been like that. She’d found a man she thought could make her happy. The outcome wasn’t good. At first, the marriage had gone well. Everything seemed fine. She called him “honey” and he called her “love.” The trouble came when she discovered she wasn’t his only love.

Barbara had inklings something wasn’t right from their first date. He made her feel warm and cherished and cared for, unlike other men who didn’t open car doors or act gentlemanly. But something was off. Something didn’t quite fit. It was just a hint of a question mark, a twinge of doubt, that Barbara pushed down. Strangely, the doubt about him became a doubt about herself. Every time she had the feeling that something was off, she kicked herself and heard an accusing voice: What are you thinking? He’s a good man. He’ll be a good provider. A real catch. Why are you sabotaging your chance at a good marriage?