An owl hooted forlornly from a sycamore tree in the next-door neighbor’s side yard as I stood on the front porch, nervously pacing. A glow shone from Robin’s living room window, but inside it was quiet. I imagined Grant watching television in their bedroom, the two little ones tucked soundly in bed, while Willow sat at the kitchen table cramming for a Monday-morning test at school tomorrow and Ryan played video games in the basement. Robin would be cleaning the kitchen, which she always did at night when no one could mess it up again. Through college she had been the night owl among us three friends, always busiest while everyone else slumbered. I didn’t know if that was what their evenings looked like in reality, but it was a pretty picture to draw. Maybe a picture I even wanted for myself. Without all the kids, of course. Though I could tolerate one. Maybe.

I sighed heavily, then knocked. I knew better than to ring the doorbell with a sleeping baby inside.

The rumble of footsteps drew nearer, then the door cracked open. Robin peered through the sliver, looking at me curiously as if she didn’t recognize me.

“Lily?”

“Hey, Robin. Can we talk for a minute?”

I couldn’t imagine the thoughts steamrolling through her head right now at my unannounced late-night visit. Especially with everything going on with Mackenzie at the moment.

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“Um, let’s sit down first.”

It was a brisk night, a sweater kind of night, but still comfortable. A walnut-stained Amish swing hung at one end of the porch, filled with fluffy pillows. I walked toward it. “How about out here?” I figured it’d be best to keep the conversation away from prying ears.

“Okaaaay.” I heard the worry. I felt it too.

Although masked in night, we exchanged a knowing look. Our oldest friend’s husband had died under mysterious circumstances, yet our silence vowed to never speak of it out loud. The murder was too harrowing to give voice to. Even if Mac had something to do with it, we’d never tell, because we all knew what Owen was capable of.

“Is this about me dropping the ball on the admin stuff for your company?” Robin asked. “I know I’ve messed a few things up, but I can do better, Lil. I’m still learning the ropes, but I really need this job.” She was pleading with me now, and I felt horrible that she felt such guilt over something so trivial in the grand scheme of things.

“No, it’s about something else. You know I love you, right?”

She sat down beside me, pushing pillows around until she was comfortably propped up.

“Of course. We’re like sisters . . . only without the drama and competition.” She smiled. Oh, how I would miss that smile.