Matthew laughed, but the joke sounded a little forced to Declan. He asked, “Are you all right?”

“Don’t you worry your curly head. I hear Matthew. What’s cooking, shitface? You good?”

“Declan’s driving—how good could I be?” Matthew replied.

Declan persisted, “Why didn’t you call before now? Are you still with Bryde? And Hennessy? What’s Bryde like?”

“You should be getting some miles in, Matthias,” Ronan said, in that aggressively jovial tone he used when he was making Matthew feel like things were normal and blowing off Declan’s concerns. “You’ve got to get your license eventually, bro.”

“Mehhh,” said Matthew. “Maybe.”

“Hey. Hey,” Ronan said. “Where are you going, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be, like, lying low at the Barns?”

“I have an errand in Boston,” Declan said.

Booty call, mouthed Matthew, and Declan shot him a dark look.

Ronan said, “An errand! There are fuckfaces out here!”

“I can’t put off every aspect of life forever,” Declan said. Foolish Declan clapped gleefully. Paranoid Declan rolled his eyes.

“You said you were going to the Barns. I assumed you were staying at the Barns. Now you’ve left the Barns.”

“You sound like D,” Matthew remarked.

Declan told himself not to rub it in, to be the mature one, and then he said, “How does it feel to ask for something reasonable and be completely ignored? How does it feel to know you’ve made plans to keep the family safe and they aren’t keeping to them?”

There was silence for so long that it seemed possible the connection had been broken.

“Ronan?”

“I gotta go,” Ronan said, but he didn’t go.

Declan once again had the curious feeling that their roles had reversed.

“I kept my head down for years,” Declan said. “It wasn’t just you. Sacrifices were made by all of us.”

“Great,” Ronan said. “My gratitude is turned to eleven. Boston. Sounds great. While you’re there, look in on Parrish for me.”

It had already occurred to Declan that he was headed to the same place Ronan’s boyfriend was going to school, but he hadn’t planned on a tête-à-tête. Paranoid Declan wasn’t intending to spend that long in the area. “I thought you had the MEGAPHONE. Call him yourself.”

Ronan said, “Yeah.”

“What’s that mean? Did you guys fight?”

“No,” Ronan said, sounding offended. “I really do have to go. Keep an eye over your shoulder for, like, uh, the bogeyman, I guess. Matthew, eat whatever vegetable the Big D tells you to.”

“Turds,” Matthew said.

“Turds aren’t vegetables,” Ronan replied. “They’re mammals.”

“You never told me what Bryde was like,” Declan said.

“Ha!” Ronan replied.

The phone went dead. The Connecticut traffic charged around them in the middle lane.