“Look, I can’t speak for all the parents, but Piper’s a good person. She does not judge. I promise you. Last year—I shouldn’t be saying this—but there was this kid in my class, and his dad had just been arrested for some kind of white-collar crime, but Piper was as kind to that kid as she was to the daughter of that A-list actor who’s now at the private school up north. She has a heart of gold—and she has great politics.” Lane raised a finger. “I mean, honey. I quit my other job in order to work for her.”

“I know.” Ronnie nodded. “And you’re a good judge of character.”

“And her son? Raised him with no help. I’m sorry if you got off on the wrong foot. But you’re welcome there. I promise.”

Ronnie rolled her jaw. She couldn’t bring up the note. It drew a circle around her. Someone was shaming her, and what if Lane then started digging into why? She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I’m probably just tired.”

“You’re a good person,” he said quietly. “The best person. I wished you believed that as much as I do.” Ronnie let out a sniff and turned toward the hillside. “I love you, Ronnie. I want us to be more than partners.”

Ronnie looked at him, her heart breaking a little. “I know. I love you, too.”

“I know you still need time—and I’ll wait. But you should know how I feel. And how badly I want to be with you.”

She couldn’t speak. The pressure in her chest felt like a heart attack. All she could do was nod. Finally, the sliding glass door scraped, and Lane stepped into the quiet living room to put away their food. Ronnie listened to the crickets. She shut her eyes, envisioning the diamond engagement ring he’d presented her with a few months before that now sat tucked away in her top drawer. I want to say yes, she’d told him. But not yet.

Lane had nodded, his eyes full of sadness. Because of him? he’d asked. Esme’s dad?

Ronnie looked away. They’d never spoken of Jerrod by name. Ronnie had given Lane the impression that Jerrod’s name traumatized her. That was true, considering what he’d done on that last day. When she’d come back into the house. Found the baby screaming. Decided that it was the last straw.

Jerrod grabbing her shoulders.

Pressing her against the wall.

Hissing in her ear, You aren’t going anywhere until I say so.

The toddler’s screams in the background.

Her screams in the foreground.

And those hands, all over her body, doing whatever they wanted—until something broke loose inside her, and she made them stop.