I walk him to the car, then watch him drive away.

I climb into bed and finally allow myself to cry for Cade, for his family, for me. I replay what’s transpired over the past week, the misery and pain this assignment has caused. I want to put it all on Mr. Bartley. It belongs on Mr. Bartley, but as I stare up at my ceiling, Mr. Lane’s words haunt me. There were so many other ways you could have handled this.

Were there?

I seriously consider it. The answer is no.

So many nights I’ve lain awake, worrying about Mr. Bartley, how this has impacted him. Enough! On the surface, I raged that Mr. Lane blamed Cade and me, but inside? I bought into his blame and piled it onto my back like a packhorse. He’s the one who behaved outrageously. I’m done making excuses for him.

My phone buzzes. Cade doesn’t call. He texts: “Home.”

Chapter 55: Mikayla Crawford

Long after Cade and Adam are asleep, Mikayla gets out of bed and walks to her mom’s bedroom door. Mikayla had left it cracked open in case her mom woke up and called for her. Like the thousands of times her mom had checked on her in the middle of the night when Mikayla was a child, she feels compelled to look in on her mom.

But from the dim glow of the nightlight, she can’t tell if her mom is breathing, so she tiptoes into the room, peers down on her. She seems at peace, but there’s a vulnerability to her mom that Mikayla’s never seen before. Her mom has never been fragile or weak. Not even when Mikayla’s dad died. She can’t remember her mom crying. But…maybe when she was a little girl?

As she watches the rise and fall of her mom’s chest, snippets of Mikayla’s childhood come back to her.

Her mom had wanted a big family. After four miscarriages, Mikayla became her mom’s miracle at age thirty-nine. Sometimes Mikayla thought that all the people her parents welcomed at the inn became extended family. Growing up without grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, her parents surrounded themselves with strangers who were always made to feel at home. Her parents doted on them, listened to them, and most of all, fed them. God forbid anyone should ever be hungry.

It makes sense now.

Her parents rarely slept, but when they did, the TV was always on. Now Mikayla wonders if the screams or crying she heard in the middle of the night came from her mom and not some actress on the screen as they’d said? Were the nightmares brought on by memories of Gross-Rosen concentration camp?

Mikayla has so many questions.