“You’re hurting me. You’re doing it right now. You attacked my boyfriend, and now Mia’s wearing my . . . Liz’s stolen brooch.” Even in pain, she’s holding on to more than she realizes, refusing to give her mom any access to her heart. Though, by how upset she is, she did a long time ago.

I let her go because I need to let her experience it. It’s the only way she’ll ever be able to package up that part of her life to manage it. She moves closer to him, her hands praying. “Please. Please give it back. I won’t ask where you got it or how. I won’t ask any questions at all. I just want it back.”

“You can ask, but it’s just a guy who used to hang around.”

“Who?”

“Because you ask doesn’t mean I can tell you.”

Lark’s hands fist at her sides, and I hear the deep breath she steals.

Dane continues, “It’s better that way. Safer.” He’s staring at her, but I can see guilt beginning to riddle his eyes. Good. He should feel shitty for what he’s doing to her. “Anyway, it’s not like I asked where he got it. I didn’t get it at the store in the mall or some shit like that. You just don’t ask those kinds of questions when doing deals of that nature, especially when you know it’s hot.”

Each step she takes is tentative, but she still braves the journey. “Dane,” she says, her voice so low it’s hard to hear, but the tremble is caught on the end. “I’m begging you. I’ll buy it from you. You can buy Mia something better, something . . . not stolen from one of your closest friends.”

“Lark, I would,” he says, glancing at the truck. “But she loves it. How can I take it from her now?”

“You just do.” Her voice rises in the cool air, becoming hoarse.

I look around at the surrounding houses. Lights are on, but no one’s come out to help or investigate. I’m kind of surprised the neighbors haven’t called the cops yet.

“I can’t,” he states, his tone unwavering, unlike hers. “I’m not going to upset Mia when she’s carrying my baby.”

When Dane looks at me again, I see it, as expected all along. Any hope of him doing the right thing has already disappeared from his eyes. I knew he’d hurt her, but he doesn’t matter. I’ll take care of her. I’ll make her feel so fucking loved that she won’t need him or that brooch.

He spews, “I’m sure your boyfriend can buy something even better.” As if he lacks a heart, he seems unable to see that it’s not about money for Lark.

Tears rattle her shoulders. “It was my mom’s.”

Disappointed that he won’t do this for her, I walk through the puddles that formed in the grass from an earlier storm and take her hand. She turns to me and buries her face against my chest. I say, “Be reasonable, man. You know what this means to her.”