That day I crouched behind the rock for what seemed like hours but was likely only a few minutes. Finally, they broke apart, Betsy heading one way down the path, Josh the other. You understand why I didn’t tell them I was there, right? I didn’t want to disturb their special moment.

I didn’t know where exactly Betsy was going but I did know she was meeting Mary, to help her understand something, where she was coming from. I knew that much. I’d heard Mary and Betsy fighting the night before, of course, standing in the hallway outside Mary’s bedroom. I wish I’d heard more, I really do. I wish I’d known about Bo, his intentions where my daughter was concerned. I would have stopped it sooner had I figured it out. I should have hidden another bug, in both of their rooms.

Don’t act all superior and pretend like you haven’t spied on your kids. All parents do it. We eavesdrop during car pool, we put tracking spyware on their phones and in their cars. We tell them who to be friends with, and who seems to be acceptable to date. And sometimes, when they are hiding secrets from their own mother, we listen outside their bedrooms. My mom told me she was always watching me, and I believed her.

Problem was, then and now, my family is hardly ever around anymore. The snippets of information I picked up during the two weeks Mary was home last summer, the short two weeks before her accident, were spotty at best. The girls whisper-argued. There was never one text between Betsy and Bo, or between Betsy and Mary, for that matter. I didn’t know he existed then. I didn’t know the actual cause of the friction between them. All along, I thought Betsy was sticking up for me, telling Mary not to move in with Elizabeth. I thought they were fighting over Mary’s birth mother, not some ridiculous ponytail-wearing hardware store employee.

When I’d finally knocked on Mary’s door they’d pretended to be tired and kissed me good-night. Little traitors. I couldn’t push them because I wasn’t supposed to be listening at all. The only thing left to do was to follow them the next day. You would have done the same.

Back then, I’d focused my attention on Mary, because that was the pressing issue, her move to LA, her move to Elizabeth. I’d already been watching David, of course.

That left little time for Betsy and her secrets.

There was never one text between Betsy and Bo.

I didn’t know he existed then.

But now I do. I’m on to you, Betsy. Now it’s your turn.

26

4:25 p.m.

I call Hoffman. He answers on the first ring. “Twice in one day. What fun. How can I help?”

“My visit with Sandy and Josh was helpful, thank you.”