Ronnie started to walk, her hands thrust in pockets, her hood obscuring her face. Andrea and Lauren hurried to catch up. Once they passed a big green garbage can that looked like it had been freshly emptied, Ronnie said in a whisper, “Someone knows the Topless Maids thing.”

“What?” Andrea said. “Who?”

“I don’t know. But they tipped Lane off. And the cops.”

Lauren blew air out of her cheeks. “If it makes you feel any better, the police know I wrote an email to Piper about having anger problems. They told Graham, not me. He’s pissed I told strangers about it.”

“It’s your issue, though,” Ronnie said petulantly. “Not his.”

“My mom got a call saying someone from the press contacted her about me,” Andrea chimed in. “She was on the phone literally the moment I stepped through the door from the police station, ready to read me the riot act. Also, this thing happened to me in New York that doesn’t paint me in the best light.”

“What do you mean?” Lauren asked.

Andrea paused for a moment. “Maybe you’d heard about it. Me and a young person? I was dressed in a suit—I looked like a man. People thought I’d been having an affair with this person. That I’d lured the kid.”

The women nodded, not seeming that surprised. So they’d read about it after she told them who she was, then. What a strange, vulnerable thing it was to have such a public life. It was certainly nothing Andrea had ever asked for.

“Anyway, the real story isn’t what was reported.” And then she hurriedly told them the truth—including that she thought Roger would want her to keep his struggles secret, and that he’d never told his parents that he was trans. “I was acquitted of any formal charges, and the restraining order was technically dropped, but the story follows me,” Andrea said. “Certain people linking me to that might think differently of me. See me as a liar. Someone slippery and suspicious, capable of deviant things.”

“Same with my email to Piper,” Lauren admitted. “When a detective sees rage disorder, of course they’ll think I lashed out.” Then she paused. “Though, you know what’s weird? It sounds like they knew about my email to Piper, but not Piper’s email back to me that I was a nutcase.”

Everyone thought about this. “Whoever turned it over to them only sent your email and not Piper’s reply?” Andrea wondered aloud. “That’s weird.”

“Who has access to Piper’s email?” Ronnie asked.

“It wasn’t that hard to hack into.” Lauren shook water off her umbrella. “Maybe some other wronged parent figured out her password just like I did and found it.”

“You guys,” Ronnie blurted, her voice so doleful they both looked over in alarm. “I think the person who attacked Piper—they meant to hurt me, not her.”