“I didn’t know what to do.” Her voice is small and trembling, kicked to the curb. “I was so scared. The pills and … I didn’t want to lose you, so I didn’t tell you … I should have, but … I didn’t know what you’d … I thought it would be another wave, Nah, another wave if you knew, and he said he loved you and it was a mistake and the wave made everything wrong and we all react in different ways to grief, which is true, you know, and I thought if he came, if you two … You said he was the Temperance card. Balance. I was trying—I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Her chin wobbles. I have never seen my sister cry. Ever. “I was trying to work the problem. I … failed. I should have told you.”

“About what?” I am yelling. I am yelling because I know. And all I can do is yell.

“About Cathy,” Micah says. “You said her. You said it’s not about the pills, why you’re with this dude. That it’s because of you and me and her.”

“I was talking about the baby,” I say. “So who’s Cathy?”

Micah’s tan disappears.

I walk past Micah. When I reach my sister, I stop.

She looks up at me, so small.

“How long have you known?” I ask.

“A month,” she whispers. “Thirty-seven days, actually, but—”

Nate steps forward. “Cuz. We didn’t know what to do. She thought you might kill yourself, okay? Seriously.”

I stare at him. “You knew?”

“We were trying to help you,” he says. “That’s why she flushed your pills. Why she invited Micah here. To help. To make you happy. She didn’t know things had … changed for you.” He gestures toward Drew. “You’ve been in a bad way, cuz. Bad.”

“So you both knew that my boyfriend was cheating on me and you let me think he … You let me keep planning to move back to LA and … What? Marry a cheating bastard because I’m too weak or—what? What?” I grab at my hair. “Why the fuck is everyone in this family a liar?”

“We’re not. We … we love you, Nah,” Mae says.

“No.” I shake my head. “When you love someone, you have their fucking back, Mae. You don’t let them stay with some asshole who is screwing some other girl.” My eyes fill. I think about Mom. Did she know? She knew. I think she did. She died knowing. Oh God, she did.