She hated spending any time in the kitchen—the awful thing had happened just there, in the far corner. The back door had been open, a fragrant breeze blowing in, Lauren was in bare feet and a maternity sundress. Why could she remember those things but not what she did next? She’d held the baby in her arms, his head propped on her shoulder. But the next moment—well, the next moment was blurry. She remembered Graham lunging, grabbing Matthew, shrieking, “Lauren!”

“Honey?” Graham called now, snapping Lauren back.

“Coming!” Lauren hurried into the living room to find that Graham had laid the baby on his back on the floor. He glanced at Lauren over his shoulder, his eyes dark.

“Any idea how Matthew got this bruise?”

Lauren dropped to her knees. Graham was pointing to a purplish splotch on Matthew’s thigh. It was shaped like a thumbprint.

“I-I don’t know.”

A tiny, pointed silence ensued. Graham’s gaze flicked to her, then flicked away. She swore she heard the tiniest of scoffs. “What? I don’t!”

“Okay. But, like, Clarissa’s always been here, right?”

The air felt colder, devoid of oxygen. “Yes, Graham.”

Graham’s throat bobbed. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” He rubbed his head. “I’m already so nervous about leaving you guys. I don’t like to be away. I’m sorry.”

She sat back on her haunches. Are you ever going to trust me again? And yet, the night in the kitchen said it all. He shouldn’t trust her. Maybe she shouldn’t trust herself.

And then something occurred to her. “Could this have happened at school?”

Graham looked appalled. “I hope not. We’re paying tens of thousands of dollars to that place. The least they can do is make sure our kid isn’t mishandled.”

“Maybe it was an accident, though.” But as she said this, she wasn’t so sure. First a creepy note in his backpack, now a bruise?

Graham’s phone rang. As he rose to get it, Matthew started crying in earnest. “Come on, come on,” Lauren said, scooping him from the floor. She settled him onto the couch with the bottle, and after a few moments, Matthew was drinking peacefully. Lauren felt the opposite. She stared at Graham’s broad, straight back as he moved to the corner, his phone tucked by his ear, his eye on Lauren and the baby the whole time. He wasn’t even going to go into his office to take the call.

She checked her email again. Still nothing. But then, she had a thought. She tapped the “Junk” tab; sometimes, messages got stuck there. Sure enough, there was a response from Piper Jovan from early the day before. Her heart did a flip.