“Tell you?” Kallie says, her words coming out in almost a whisper. “I needed to tell you how your son destroyed me?” The words cut me off at the knees.

“She wasn’t the one who changed anything, Crissy,” Charlotte says to her, using my mother’s nickname. The two of them were the best of friends, and then the rift started. “I lost my daughter that day. You still have your son. Your son who is always around. You have your son and your grandson.” I see Kallie close her eyes when her mother says grandson. “So don’t even think you got the short end of the stick.”

“What the hell?” I say, cutting this off before it gets even uglier. Kallie’s eyes come to mine, and I get lost in them just like I did every single time. I watch her movement as she turns to her mother, I watch her hands that I used to hold and kiss. When she slumps her shoulders, I want to grab her and put her over my shoulder and tell her everything. I want to tell her everything, and then suddenly, the anger from her leaving me comes in. The blonde from before comes down the aisle, and she is frantic and shaking. I look around, and I hear the two words that breaks me out of my trance. “The detective.”

“Let’s go,” her mother says, and my hand shoots out even before I can stop myself. I grab her arm, and the whole store sounds like it gasps in shock. Kallie doesn’t turn around; the only thing she does is move her head down, looking at my hand on her arm. Her arm that feels different, smaller, frail.

“What detective?” I finally ask, looking around to see if I see anything out of place. It happens in slow motion, or at least it feels like that. She turns around, and now that she is so close, I can smell her again. I can see the little freckles on her nose.

“This doesn’t concern you,” she says. “Nothing about me or my life concerns you.” I swear it’s like she slaps me in the face, and I take a step back and watch her walk out of the store.

“I can’t believe she is back to bring all this havoc to everyone,” my mother says, but I look down at my hand that touched her, ignoring the tingling I feel. “Eight years and she just waltzes back into town.”

“Mom.” I say her name, and she looks at me. “That’s enough.” I look around, and everyone looks away, pretending that they just didn’t watch the shitshow that went downhill. “Let’s go, Mom.”