The tightness in my chest doesn’t loosen as I stare out over the lake. The sun is good and high now, the sky a cloudless dusty blue, bright against the still-shaded water. Lake to the back, wall of reporters to the front, trapping me in this place. I spot movement down the shoreline, a flash at the far end of the cove. I recognize the lazy gait, those long legs and broad shoulders. Chet, right before he disappears into the pines.

My baby brother was so easy to fall in love with, velvety pink and squirming in that grubby blanket, blinking up at me with those pretty eyes. The first time my mother shoved him in my arms, my heart squeezed and soared at the same time. I remember thinking it strange that love could come in such a tiny bundle.

When it happened again with Paul, falling in love felt as easy as slipping into a warm bath. I gave him my heart, and I saw it as a sign. See? I remember thinking. You are not your mama. Your heart has room for more. I thought loving him made me a decent person. I thought it made me better than her.

I never stopped to think about what turned her love ugly. I never wondered about all the things that could make love flip over to show its underbelly, cold and dark and dangerous. I never considered how easy it might be, or how once love slips away, if it’s possible to ever get it back.

But as I stare out the window at the glittering lake, these are the things I’m thinking about now.

“Helloooo.” Diana’s voice echoes off the foyer walls, slicing through the weatherman’s chatter on the TV. I hit Mute as the front door closes with a thud. “Anybody home?” Her heels click on the hardwoods.

I’ve lived here long enough to know that she does this, lets herself into her son’s home, treats it like it’s her own. Who knew a big house surrounded by woods could come with zero privacy because Diana could walk in any minute? I shove a smile up my cheeks as she comes around the corner, her arms holding a giant white basket wrapped in cellophane.

She sets it on the counter and moves closer, peeling off her sunglasses and inspecting my face. “You’ve got your color back, I see. Feeling better, are you?” She smells like gardenia and vanilla.

“Much better, thank you. Paul’s not here.”

I didn’t mean for it to come across like that, like I know she’s only here for him, but there it is.