I sat on one of the soft chairs, pulled my bare feet to the cushion and wrapped the robe around my knees. “I don’t really know how to start this.”

“Oh, Julia,” Mom said, her voice filled with emotion. “Don’t do anything rash. What Beth and Skylar did isn’t your fault.”

What?

“I know that, Mom.”

“I’ve spoken to Beth. She wants to talk to you.”

I rolled my eyes. I’d seen her name on my missed calls and texts. I’d deleted the texts without reading them and obviously hadn’t returned her calls. “I don’t want to talk to her. She can have Skylar; he’s a consolation prize anyway. I hope they make each other insanely happy.”

“She’s hoping you two can work through this.”

My head shook. “Honestly, Beth is going to be a mother. Maybe she should stop being so selfish. She got Skylar. She can’t have me too.”

“But, dear,” Mom went on, “the two of you have been best friends since you were little girls.”

“I didn’t call to talk about Beth or Skylar, and I’m not coming home, not right away. I left Chicago because I wasn’t ready to face everyone. Not because I was guilty but because I didn’t want to see the pity.”

“You know you have a home with us,” Dad said.

I had been living back in my childhood home since graduating from Northwestern. “Technically, I suppose I have a home with Skylar too. I suppose I need an attorney to look into that.” I gathered my breath. “Again, none of this is why I’m calling.” Before they could interrupt again, I went on. “The day I drove to Ashland, I was caught in a blizzard.”

“What?” Mom gasped.

“Mom, obviously, I’m fine. But that night, I slid and ran the rental car off the road and into a snowbank. I was stuck in the middle of nowhere.” I thought about that. It wasn’t the middle of nowhere. It was the outskirts of where I was now.

“Julia,” Dad said, “why didn’t you call us?”

“Well, as luck would have it, there was no cell service. Not wanting to freeze to death in the car, I took off walking.” The memories came back. “A man found me.”

“Oh no.”

“He was a good man. He is,” I corrected. “He saved me. He took me to a nearby cabin and well” —I left out a few details— “neither of us knew one another. A few days later when I went to the job interview...well...it turned out that the job I came up here to explore is working for him, writing his memoir.”

“Who is he?” Dad asked.

“You’re working for the man who saved you?” Mom asked.

“Yes,” I replied, answering my mother. “I’m working for him. Dad, he’s also the buyer of the shares in Wade.”