“Thanks,” Iris says. She takes the wine and walks to the window. Mike and Ned are now at Danielle’s with the police. She’d offered Ned a place to stay, with them, but she feels she said it the wrong way. As though he heard in her tone that she didn’t want him to say yes. Ned thanked her but said he would stay at Mike’s house. So she texted another volunteer-minded mom in the neighborhood, who set up a meal schedule online and linked it to the Winding Creek Faceplace page. Already it’s full, people wanting to help. Ned and Mike are set for dinner tonight; the Harpers are bringing them chicken casserole. She hopes they will eat. She will take them dinner tomorrow night. She wonders if she can hover then for a moment, find out what the police have said and are saying to Mike and Ned, learn something.

Julia has folded in on herself. She’s up in her room, on her phone. Texting, but not Ned, not for the moment. Her daughter has achieved a weird kind of celebrity in the past few hours. Julia says that Ned’s friends have rallied around him, although they’re mostly boys who don’t seem to know what to do other than tell him how sorry they are and ask what they can do for him. But Ned told them Julia was with him, and now Julia tells her that kids she doesn’t even know well are texting her for details.

“Julia!” she calls up the stairs. Julia, after a few moments, appears.

“Will you bring me your phone?”

“Why?”

Because I asked. Because I’m your mother. But instead she says, “I want a log of everyone who is contacting you about this. It could be of interest to the police.” But she really just wants to know what’s on her daughter’s mind.

“Why would the police care?”

“Because they might. I saw that on a Law & Order episode.”

“That’s made-up stuff.”

Iris holds her hand out for the phone, end of discussion. “I’m not going to read your messages.”

“Yeah, right. I haven’t answered anyone except to say I can’t talk about it. I’m not an idiot, Mom.”

“I know you’re not.”

Julia comes down the stairs and, with a sigh, hands her mother the phone. It has been a horrifying day, but this moment of normal teen resentment feels like a reassurance that Julia, despite the trauma, is going to be all right. Won’t she? Won’t she get over what she saw?

Iris takes the phone, and Julia sees her mother’s hand trembling. “Mom.”

“I’m all right. I’m just worried about you.”

Julia hugs her. “I’m fine.”

“No, you saw a horrible thing you’ll never unsee, and I wish I could change that.”

“Mom…”