“Dad’s going to regret not seeing this,” one of them said, and Lauren wanted to punch her. She’d imagined her birth going wrong in a lot of ways—accidentally having the baby at home, the need for an episiotomy, an emergency C-section—but she’d never imagined she’d have to do it without the baby’s father.

Even after Matthew slid out relatively easily, a perfectly formed child, Lauren still throbbed with the wrongness of having to go through it alone. There was no doubt she had a touch of PTSD from the whole ordeal. Maybe, in fact, the birth was what led to what Lauren was going through now. This . . . darkness. The growing feeling inside her she couldn’t quite describe or control. And the sleeping, all the sleeping, just to escape.

Her phone bleeped. It was her mother. How are things?

Lauren felt a confusing rush. On the one hand, she wanted to tell her mother the truth. On the other, she was too proud. And there was yet another part of her that was annoyed because her mother had barely reached out. Didn’t she remember how hard a newborn was? Shouldn’t a mother know her daughter was struggling? It was a bizarre tug-of-war.

She slid the phone back in her pocket without responding.

It was finally her turn at the door, but still no Graham. Lauren put aside her annoyance when she saw her baby, who gave her a big, gummy smile. “Your first day!” she cried at him. “Aren’t you a big boy!”

She gathered Matthew from the caretaker, a kind woman named Rose, and scooped up his raccoon-shaped backpack that stored his bottles, diapers, wipes, and other necessities. The parking lot was crowded with people; a different crossing guard waved vehicles through onto one of Raisin Beach’s busiest streets.

Lauren pulled open the door just as Graham was jumping out to help get Matthew in the baby seat. He looked cowed. “I’m so sorry, babe. The call ended, but then all these texts started, and I knew that if I went inside, I’d look rude. I figured it was better for you to meet Piper anyway, since you’ll be seeing her more.”

“It’s a shame you missed it,” Lauren said airily. “Cool loft, the director reminds me of a dark-haired Gwyneth Paltrow, there’s going to be some sort of documentary, oh, and also, it was adorable seeing Matthew in the classroom.” She opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. “You mind driving?”

Graham looked put out. “Actually, I have a few more texts to send.”

“I had some Baileys inside. I don’t feel right being behind the wheel.”

Graham’s eyes widened. “You were drinking? What about your milk?”

“It was only a few sips.”