Lauren bobbled Matthew, now a year old, in her arms. “You’re getting heavy,” she said to the kid, who kicked his feet in delight. There were dark circles under Lauren’s eyes, and she seemed a bit ragged—she’d gone back to work remotely for her old gaming company and was managing Matthew on her own sometimes, though she still employed her nanny. But there was something brighter about her, too. She wasn’t nearly as fragile, and she wasn’t nearly as on edge—or, rather, she was still on edge, but now she was owning it.

Lauren had come into her own after everything unraveled with Graham. And now that Matthew was a year old, her hormones had begun to level out. Graham’s absence probably helped. So did stopping breastfeeding—she’d switched to formula, “and let me tell you,” she’d said to her friends, “it is a fucking relief.”

Or maybe she felt more herself because she no longer felt as ashamed. She’d joined a support group of other women who’d experienced postpartum rage, too, and it seemed her experience wasn’t that abnormal. Tons of women were hiding these terrible thoughts from their spouses, their friends, their families. As they all talked about it, they felt seen and heard and normalized. And with them, she didn’t have to hide. It helped she was working again, too. Right now, she was working on a fantasy game involving dragons and gnomes . . . and loving it. So there was that. Another identity, finally, after all this time.

“Have you heard from . . . you know?” Andrea asked, lowering her voice as if Matthew might guess who they were talking about.

Lauren shook her head. “I can’t bring myself to go yet.”

Graham was serving a prison sentence for Piper’s attack, though he was still trying to appeal it. But Piper had identified Graham at the scene, which pretty much doomed his chances. “Maybe when Matthew’s bigger, I don’t know. But not now.” Then Lauren held up a finger. “Though my family visited last week from back east. It was really nice. Funny, I thought they all found me ridiculous, but they kept gawking at Raisin Beach, saying how fantastic my life was. My sister Mel even said she envied me because I didn’t have to deal with a husband.” She rolled her eyes. “Which, I mean, was probably too soon to joke about, but I was weirdly flattered. Oh! And guess who met us for lunch one of the days?” She paused dramatically. “Graham’s old boss. Gracie.”