“But I can stay for a little while. Until you fall asleep again—if you want.”

His fingers gently combed the hair out of my face.

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

Then he leaned down and kissed my lips—a sweet, sad, concerned, protective kiss. The kind of kiss that says more than words. That speaks of regrets and fears and hopes that we would never be able to verbalize. I wanted it to go on forever, but of course that was impossible.

He sat up, placed the covers over my shoulders, and then sighed. “I wish I could make things easier for you.”

I was growing so sleepy I almost didn’t answer. But after a few seconds, my brain matched up the words to the thoughts, and I said, “You do.”

I WOKE WITH the soft morning light. I turned and stretched, and then opened my eyes.

Barrett was still in my room, asleep in the chair in the corner, his chin touching his chest.

I scrambled out of bed. “Barrett!” I whispered. “Barrett, wake up!”

His eyes opened, and as soon as he realized where he was, they went wide in panic. “Oh, God,” he said. “Is Mom out there?”

“I don’t think so.” I went to the door and pressed my ear against it. “What time is it?”

“I don’t have my phone,” he said, so I reached over and looked at mine, flashing the screen at him.

It was 5:59 a.m.

“What time does she come in?” Barrett asked.

“Six o’clock.”

He seemed to turn to stone.

“Come on,” I said. “You can’t stay in here. If she finds you in the hall, you can say you woke up early.”

He nodded.

I pulled the door open, looking out into the nursery. Agatha was asleep. The door to the hall was ten feet away.

I turned to Barrett. “I’ll go downstairs. If she finds me, I’ll keep her talking. You only need fifteen seconds, right?”

“Right.”

If he’d just left immediately, we would have been fine. “Okay, no problem. I’ll see you at breakfast?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Don’t come into the hall until I’m downstairs.”

He nodded.

I turned around and gave him a kiss—a quick one—and then slipped out the door and into the hall. It was quiet, and for a second I felt foolish. All he had to do was walk to his bedroom. That wasn’t a huge deal. It wasn’t worth acting like we were spies in enemy territory.

But as soon as I started down the stairs, I realized how close we’d come to being caught.

Laura was approaching. I could hear her humming softly to herself.

I rushed down the stairs—too fast. She stopped short and looked at me in surprise.

“Margot,” she said. “Is everything all right? Is Agatha—”