I hadn’t known Elodie that long, but I felt I knew her better than I knew the father who I’d lived with for a lifetime. We met at work on her first day hired. I found her in the cleaning supplies closet, crying because a client had yelled at her when the massage oil she used was too hot. We didn’t have much in common, other than being the same age. And even that, well, I felt older somehow. I looked older, too. Elodie had this youthful air around her, a forever teenager, especially when she smiled. And when she was nervous or sad, she looked about sixteen. Maybe younger? That brought out the protector in me. I didn’t have a choice but to grow up fast. Even at twenty, I barely remember a time when I was free of adult thoughts and worries.

Elodie tried her best to be the perfect young Army wife, but she was already at the center of so many petty rumors. The wives in Phillip’s platoon made little jokes about her accent and called her a “mail-order bride,” despite the reality that tons of soldiers met their wives online. I’m sure my client Stewart had some stats on that, too—about how many members of the military met their spouses on social media.

That didn’t seem to matter to these women who entertained themselves by belittling Elodie. That’s how a lot of military installations were—everyone bickering and jostling for position. Elodie’s neighbors were snarky assholes who spent their days selling pyramid schemes on Facebook and bullying her over her grass being an inch too long. That’s not an exaggeration. I was with her once when the “mayor” of her housing department pulled up, tires screeching, and scolded Elodie for letting her grass grow half an inch too long.

Yes, the “mayor” measured.

No, she didn’t have anything better to do.

That’s why Elodie preferred to spend her nights on my couch, or next to me in my bed, depending on where she fell asleep. I got the feeling she liked the couch the most. She didn’t wake up asking for her mom or Phillip when she was on the couch.

I planned on asking Elodie about the guy, Kael, I had met earlier. Obviously, she knew him—but how? She didn’t have many friends, as far as I was aware, and she didn’t spend much time socializing.

While I was looking at my phone for a text from my brother, hoping for one—not surprisingly, there was nothing from him—Elodie walked to the couch, sat down, and tucked her feet under her. Her petite body was changing, her belly starting to swell. I wondered where the baby would sleep in my little house. The thought made me equal parts excited and terrified.