‘I’m sorry,’ I said, steadying my voice, feeling foolish. ‘I don’t have a lot of people in my life anymore. I don’t have family, and I don’t have a partner, and it’s been nice spending time with you guys, and when you rip the rug out from under me like that, tell me people want to hurt John – which you’ve never even thought to hint at before – and don’t even give me a chance to take it in, and then ask me about watching your house … it’s like I mean nothing to you.’

She held me closer, tucking my head into the crook of her neck. She smelled like laundry. Her lips found the edge of my forehead, planting a kiss right where my hairline began, and she began to slowly rub my back. ‘That couldn’t be further from the truth, Lucy. The reason we told you is because we care about you so much. I should never have mentioned money. I can see now how insulting that sounded.’

I pulled away, disentangling myself. ‘What exactly did John mean when he said people wanted to hurt him? And why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you think I, of all people, would understand something like that?’

She scooted away from me and stared at her hands. ‘I didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid you would judge us.’

‘Judge you?’ I asked. ‘Wait, does this have something to do with Rachel?’

Vera looked up, her eyes cutting. ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘It has nothing to do with her.’

She exhaled slowly, and her tone softened. ‘I’m sorry. I might as well just tell you the truth. About a year ago, John started teaching art classes.’

‘In the cabin,’ I said.

She nodded. ‘The first few sessions went really well. They were way better than the normal hippie-dippie offerings here. People loved them – locals, mostly, but sometimes a weekender would drop in, too. Anyway, in February, he got the idea to do one-on-one lessons. I guess one of his students was asking, this girl Claire – she was in high school, but she took her work very seriously. I encouraged it, it just seemed like a natural extension of what he was already doing. He took on other private lessons, too. Only after a few months’ – she swallowed – ‘there were rumors that he and Claire were …’

I narrowed my eyes, weight pressing at my chest. ‘Were what?’

Vera tugged at the collar of her top, as if suddenly hot. ‘I guess people thought, why is he giving these lessons way out in this cabin in the woods? Why not in town? Why not in our house, or at the gallery, where I was? Woodstock can be very progressive, but at the same time, it can be small-town, especially for the people who live here year-round. It’s a tight-knit community. Insular. People talk. Sometimes, people talk a lot.’