“You had just told me you had made your decision; you were keeping the baby. For sure, you said. One second I was a seventeen-year-old with a football scholarship putting his drunk girlfriend to bed—not exactly Future-Mom-of-the-Year material, Lil—”

“I was seventeen, too, and fucking terrified—”

“And then, in an exhale of coconut-rum breath, I became a whole new person. Sleep wasn’t exactly on the table. So I cleaned up.”

“I went downstairs. I didn’t see you.”

“It’s a big house.” Silas gripped his jaw with one hand. “Where is this even coming from? What poison has he put into your head?”

Lily pressed her palms into her eyes. Was she crazy? Had the Forgetting Years been the truth and what came after the madness?

“This isn’t about him—”

“Like fuck it isn’t,” he said. “You’ve just been . . . what? Casually wondering if your husband of seventeen years is a murderer? The man who has stood by you from that night on? How long have you been wondering this, Lily? At the trial? As we made and raised our two kids? At Philip’s fucking funeral?”

Lily shook her head. “I can’t understand why you weren’t there when I woke up,” she said. “The house was completely dark, Silas. Were you cleaning in the dark? And your clothes—”

“What about my clothes?”

“They were on the floor the next morning, so I thought it would be helpful if I packed them. They were covered in dirt.”

Lily was just about to peer out from between her fingers when she felt his breath on her face.

“Honestly, sometimes I wish I had killed her,” he said. “Just so Philip didn’t have to go through that. If I had done it, maybe he would still be alive. But that’s not how it happened.” Silas banged his fist on the counter. “Fuck, Lily, you’re the one who testified that he was upset she turned him down. You’re the one who saw him with her body, punching her. Did you lie? Have you been lying this whole time?”

Lily shook her head again, but the question sizzled in her gut. Was she lying? It had been so long, so much forgotten.

“Fucking look at me!” he yelled, grabbing her wrists in one hand and yanking them down.

No, she thought when she looked at Silas then. She definitely saw Philip over Sarah’s body that night, his fists slamming into her chest.

She remembered how big he had looked on top of her. Like a grown man.

Like Silas did now.