I sent the text to my friends the night of the disastrous carnival. After Jack’s bloody nose had stopped, Mark took him and Emily home while I stayed behind with a few of the other parents to clean up what was left of the event. Melissa’s family left without saying goodbye. I didn’t blame her. Del stayed behind to help while Summer left with Sharon. I could only imagine what Jess had heard.

Thankfully, Jack seemed calm and happy by the time we put him to bed after I got home. Emily barely spoke, her eyes haunted and afraid. I tried to remain logical about what had happened, reminding myself that Liz might not have been responsible. But still, some part of me felt as though she had to have been involved. There weren’t any other reports of wind damage in the area; it seemed isolated to the carnival.

I waited for a response, to make sure my friends were safe, emotionally and physically. But no one texted back.

Silence was worse than anything, so I sent a follow-up text two hours later as I was making dinner.

I hope you guys are okay.

I rebooted my phone twice as I ate ice cream alone in the kitchen while Mark fell asleep on the couch, exhausted from the day’s events, and again as I loaded the dishwasher. And yet no response came.

Later, I lay in bed watching Bravo, trying to immerse myself in the latest Real Housewives drama—something about one of the women insulting the shoes of another—but had to turn it off. If only our problems were that mundane.

I woke up the next day and checked my phone, feeling like a clingy girlfriend who knows she’s about to be broken up with but can’t accept it.

My friends had responded.

I read through the group text. I stared at it until the words blended together like melted ice cream, hoping if I just kept reading it, I would find hope. A small hole that I could wiggle into and make larger. To make them reconsider.

The first text from Melissa had been sent early that morning: Tony and I talked and we have decided to put our house on the market next week. It’s just not safe to stay here anymore, especially after what happened at the carnival.

Five minutes later, Jess had responded: Sorry Amy, but I’m wondering if we should do the same. The carnival wasn’t your fault, but I’m scared. Holy shit this is terrible.

Then they quickly moved into a discussion of who they were each using as a Realtor. The last one in the thread was from Melissa: We may have a buyer already who wants a quick close.