He looked up at the stars again, as if debating whether to answer my question. “You know why I left the narcotics division in Ithaca? I was an addict. Alcohol—I already told you about that. Cocaine, pills. I was machine bent on self-destruction. I’d been that way pretty much my whole life, and it was catching up with me.”

“Why? I mean, why were you like that?”

“You want another cigarette?” he asked, holding out the pack. I shook my head. “See, that’s the difference between you and me. You know when to stop.”

I could think of a few instances that would prove him wrong. “What stopped you?”

“My kid got hit by a car.” He caught my alarmed expression. “He’s ten now, Lily, and he’s fine. But he was in the hospital and no one could find me. I was off getting drunk, getting high.” His eyes were hot with shame. “I fucked up my life without a thought. My son healed up okay, but by the time I got myself straight my marriage was over. I blamed my wife—she was the one who had the affair with my best friend—but I was the one who got us into a place where that could happen.”

“At least you got yourself together.” Something bitter had crept into my voice. Bruxton might have screwed up, but he’d worked to make things right, and that was more than my mother had ever done. It wasn’t her fault that we’d lost our father, but she had slipped out of our lives too, swallowed up by the bottle. Maybe that wasn’t her fault, either. But I’d tried to fill the void she left in Claudia’s life and I had failed miserably. I’d never forgive my mother for forcing me into a role I had no idea how to play. There were so many things I regretted about my relationship with Claudia, moments I wished I could snatch back, times when I’d been selfish instead of helping her. Whatever she’d become was as much my fault as her own. Maybe more.

“It took me a while,” Bruxton said. “Addicts aren’t in their right minds. I don’t mean that as an excuse. Just a warning. For when we find your sister.”

CHAPTER 37