“We were soulmates, I thought,” Hannah continued. “And then he decided he needed to leave, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t let things fall apart, I couldn’t risk being gone if Cass got sicker. So, he left without me.” She chewed on her lip, not meeting Miriam’s eyes.

“I told him, if he left, he should never come back. I didn’t mean never. His parents live here. This is his home. But apparently he took me seriously, because it’s been four years. And he didn’t come home for Cass.” Hannah shook her head, her tears falling faster.

“I’m going to kill him,” Miriam muttered. “This is not the version he told me about why you weren’t speaking.”

Hannah brushed tears off her chin and smiled. “I’m sure the version he told you makes him look better.”

It hadn’t, particularly. Blue was nothing if not self-deprecating. But it had been remarkably short on details. They were, if she remembered correctly, “temporarily at odds about his life choices.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Miriam buried her face in her hands, suddenly overwhelmed by how much her family had fundamentally changed while she’d been pretending they were all in stasis without her.

“At first, none of us knew if you wanted to hear from us,” Hannah explained, “and then it was weird because it had been going on so long…and then he was gone, I guess. I assumed he’d told you.”

“I didn’t mean to break your trust so badly that you would keep this a secret from me,” Miriam said, the weight on her heart feeling like it might crush her. “I wish you could have trusted me to talk to me about it. Or Cass’s illness.”

“I wish you’d trusted me with whatever happened with your dad,” Hannah said, somewhere between resigned and bitter. She was squeezing her hands together, her knuckles turning white.

The words stung, and some of her hurt turned to anger. “That’s shitty, Nan. I was doing the best I could. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She dashed tears from her eyes. Had she, though, done the best she could? She and Hannah and Levi had been each other’s closest friends for so long, and she’d shut Hannah out a long time before Hannah returned the favor.

“I was doing the best I could, too, Miri, and I was drowning,” Hannah said, throwing up her hands. “I fucked up. My feelings were hurt, and I fucked up. I didn’t mean to keep you from Cass. She made me promise not to tell you how sick she was. I should have done it, anyway.”

She’d told herself for years that her secrets only affected her, but it had been a convenient lie.