An expression of agony passed over Harrison’s face, but the sound he made wasn’t one of anguish. It was a laugh—empty and bitter, yes, but a laugh all the same.

“Of course she does. I’m sure it’s killing her to see it like that. Her precious darling.”

Now it was Sophie’s turn to blink in confusion. Harrison saw it and laughed harder.

“Do you realize he hasn’t let me put a single nail in that place until the day you and Bubbles waltzed in? Not one nail, not one coat of paint, definitely not a tablecloth. In a few short weeks, you managed to wreak nothing short of a miracle.”

If Harrison’s parents had reconciled over his coma, she had the suspicion it was Minerva, and not her, who had managed the miraculous, but she didn’t say so. It was hardly a helpful observation under the circumstances.

“For twenty-two years, he forced us to live in the ashes of everything she left behind,” Harrison said. The laughter stopped as suddenly as it had started. “I wanted to change it. I wanted to fix it. Believe me—I tried.”

“But…” Sophie said, prompting him.

“He liked watching it go to ruin.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s her house, Sophie. Not his. Not mine. It’s been in her family for generations, the place where all our happy Parks dreams were going to come true. Until, of course, I ruined it. One near-death experience, and Minerva realized that some dreams aren’t worth the cost.” He glanced away, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “It wasn’t just her husband and son she left behind that day. She left everything she’d ever known—her home, her career, her friends. That’s how little she wanted to do with me. That’s how much she couldn’t wait to get away.”

Clarity was starting to take over her confusion—and, with it, some of that same bitterness that characterized everything Harrison said and did.

“Then why on earth do you and your dad still live there?”

This time, his laughter held a note of sincerity. “Sheer stubborn will, at least on his part. That man resented me every single day of his life, and he’d have gladly packed up and left if the opportunity had afforded itself. But a Parks doesn’t abandon his duty. The house was left in his care, and so was I. He would never have considered leaving his post, however much he might have wanted to.”

“And you?” she couldn’t help asking. “Why didn’t you leave?”

His eyes glittered. “I’m a Parks too, or hadn’t you noticed?”