Ryan picked at a loose thread on the bedspread, concentrating on it. “She kissed me back, and I thought she wanted to, you know, have sex. I mean, she seemed into it. So we started to, like for a minute, when her mom showed up. I swear, it happened so fast, but I didn’t think Aria was upset or anything about it. Did she say she was upset?”

The weight of guilt clearly hung on him like a noose, but I had no consolation to offer. He couldn’t see what bubbled beneath the surface of his life. Possible rape charges. Imminent jail time. A sexual offender record following him for life. These worries curled around me, squeezed every maternal bone in my body.

I didn’t want to tell him, but I had to. He needed to know the truth.

“Ryan, honey, Aria doesn’t even remember what happened. I think she was too drunk to know what she was doing.”

“No, Mom, she was into it, I swear. She kissed me first.”

“But did she verbally say she wanted to take it further—to have sex?”

Ryan examined his bitten fingernails, a nervous habit we shared, then looked up at me. His eyes were confused and unfocused. “Oh, God, I don’t know, Mom. I don’t remember. We were drinking and talking and having fun. It started with a kiss . . . and I don’t know. Did I do something bad?”

I couldn’t speak, and he read my silence.

His breathing escalated into shallow panting, and his gaze darted around the room. “What did I do? Mom, am I in trouble?”

I placed a hand on his shoulder, and another one grabbed his palm. “Calm down, Ry. Breathe.” My voice was calm, soothing, but he lingered on the verge of panic. “Nothing is happening. I just want to get your side of things so that we can sort it out. Are you okay, Ry?”

His eyes lowered, then met mine as I talked him off the ledge.

“I know this isn’t easy, but we just need to get to the bottom of this.” I thought back to my confrontation with Mac. She didn’t know if Ryan had used protection. I dreaded asking him, but I had to. “Ry, I assume you still have condoms in your underwear drawer.”

His hand rose to rub his forehead, shading his embarrassment. “No secrets around this madhouse.”

“Yeah. I have to ask you: did you . . . have one on?”

He hesitated only a moment. “No, Mom.”

I felt my heart drop to my shoes. “And did you . . . ejaculate?”

“Geez, Mom! I don’t . . . I mean, I’m not sure. Maybe . . . a little. Mrs. Fischer came in and—”

“That’s okay, Ry. Can you answer one more question for me?”

He nodded.

“Did you specifically ask her if she wanted to have sex?”

“Um, no, I don’t think so.”