“Oh, nothing. Just so glad to be here.” I shove my brush into the thick black paint and blob it onto the outline of one of the soda stools.

“Sure you are.” Betsy isn’t looking at me, though. She’s smiling at a guy with long blond hair who is working his way toward us, cutting through the crowded gym. The hairs stand up on the back of my neck as my radar senses a connection.

“Hey, Betsy. Is this your mom?” Blond surfer dude has reached our table. He smiles at me, pulls his hair behind his back. He looks too old to be in high school.

“Hi, I’m Jane Harris.” I extend my hand even though there’s black paint on my pinkie.

“Bo. Good to meet you. I’m a substitute teacher here and I tutor after school. Betsy’s one of my favorite students.” He shakes the tips of my fingers quickly. It’s weird, it’s almost as if he’s trying to keep me from seeing something. But then I see it, the proof. His infinity tattoo matches Betsy’s. My jaw tightens. Once again, I’ve been played by my own family member. This is unacceptable. I turn to question Betsy.

Bo says to Betsy, “Can I borrow you for a moment?”

“Sure. Be right back, Mom.”

I watch them weave through the gym, lost in each other, not talking to any of the other kids at the other tables. And then they’re out of sight. Betsy acted cool, nonchalant, and that likely means they are an item. That’s crazy, though. He’s too old for her, of course. She couldn’t possibly be dating that inappropriate man? But they have matching tattoos. Could Betsy be keeping more secrets from me than I realize?

Someone touches my shoulder and I jump.

“Sorry to startle you.” It’s Sarah, omnipresent Sarah.

“No worries. Thank you for coming last night.” I manage to have manners but I want to think about my devious daughter.

“It was a lovely memorial service.” Sarah looks around, scanning the crowd. “Where’s Betsy?”

“Oh, well, she just stepped away for a minute. A guy named Bo came to talk to her.” I see a look cross Sarah’s face. She bites her lip. “What is it?”

“Nothing. I mean, just rumors. Gossip. I’m sure it’s nothing. He’s also the assistant manager at the hardware store on Beach Boulevard. Probably dropping off supplies or something.” Sarah steps back. “I need to get back over to my project table.”

“Wait. What is it? What do you know?” I grab her wrist. “Please.”

“Hey, Mom. Mrs. Murphy. What’s going on?” Betsy is back.

Sarah shakes her wrist free. “Just saying hello, that’s all. Get back to work, you two. Have fun.”

Betsy hands me my paintbrush and starts back in on a white square of the red-and-white soda shop.

“And who was that?”