After Marshall left, I ground out the hours by tidying every bit of flotsam I could find, keeping Robert with me in his sling. When the house looked ready for a photo shoot, I started in on the closets. Mills stayed on the same floor as me, amiably toting his novel and his giant bag of high-protein snacks. Around five-thirty his partner brought the girls home from rehearsal and quiz-bowl practice, then headed back out to escort Trey home from work.

I told the girls to heat up frozen pizza in the rec-room kitchenette, and there was a salad to go with it in the fridge.

“Head downstairs and do your homework. Then you can stream a movie, if you like. Trade off the babysitting. You are in complete charge of your brother,” I told them. “Your dad and I need a little privacy.”

“Gross,” Anna-Claire said.

I handed her Robert, who was cheery but peckish, then gave Peyton his diaper bag, freshly restocked with everything he’d need. “Stay downstairs unless it’s an emergency. Make it a double feature.”

“Super gross,” Peyton echoed, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Mills, can you go with them?” I asked.

“Yeah, Mills!” Anna-Claire said, visibly brightening. “Come watch a movie with us.”

Mills looked so alarmed that I had mercy on him. “Homework first, and, Anna-Claire, Mills is in the middle of a book.”

“I’ll sit on the stairs and read so I won’t disturb you,” Mills said.

“You won’t bother me!” Anna-Claire said, starting down.

Peyton had been visibly antsy all week, but none of this seemed to be touching my eldest. “Seemed” was the operative word. She was an actor, like me, with a talent for appearing Instagram-perfect even in the worst of storms. But I could see the pale lavender circles under her luminous eyes. Her friends pinged her phone relentlessly, caught up in the adolescent drama of being tragedy-adjacent. Outwardly she lapped up the attention, but her old stuffed dog, Bendo, long banished to the bookshelf, was back in her bed.

Peyton lingered until Mills went down, picking at her cuticles. “Mom. How much longer are the bodyguards going to be here?”

I wanted these nice, quiet professionals out of my house, too. They were here until Lexie Pine was found, though. She might be as dangerous as her mother, but I hoped Coral had acted, at least in the worst parts, truly on her own. Maybe, if this were so, she would be open to Trey’s attempt to make amends. My secret, sweetest prayer was that there was a way for all of us to find a little peace.

Marshall thought this was naïve, or even stupid. He hadn’t said so, but I knew his face. I agreed it was one hell of a long shot, actually, but this very week I’d had such good luck with long shots.