A shudder of grief took her breath and she stood, steadied herself with a hand on the bedpost and shook her head free of confusion. A pain pill—Hallie had convinced her to take one when they’d finally left the hospital. They’d arrived home and her brother and sister had tucked her into bed as though she were a child. Beckett had been there, too, with soft words and a cup of chamomile tea. She’d tried to drink it, but then willingly succumbed to the cottony haze of Percocet.

Now the sunburn on her shoulders and collarbones stung like a horde of bees had set themselves on her in sleep. Her body couldn’t decide whether to cry or flop back to bed or run screaming into the living room, where she heard the rise and fall of voices—her brother, her sister, the little girls and one other voice . . . Walter’s. She didn’t glance in the mirror, she didn’t brush her teeth or hair; she bolted from the bedroom and rushed into the living room.

“Get out!” She pointed at Walter, who sat on the couch as though he belonged there. She had thought losing him was the worst thing? What a joke. It was the best thing.

He sat there in faded khaki shorts and a stained construction T-shirt, his hair curly and his sense of ownership grievous. Colleen stood in front of him before he’d even turned to her.

“Lena.”

“Don’t put my name in your mouth. Get out.”

“Are you okay? My God, you’re so sunburned.”

Colleen touched the skin on her face, felt its heat. “You need to leave right now.” She hadn’t even looked at her brother and sister, at her nieces.

“Lena, please—the girls.” That was Hallie’s voice, but Colleen didn’t acknowledge it. Instead she turned to her nieces, quiet and holding their magic wands, snuggled together in one chair, frightened and wide-eyed.

“My magic ones. Will you do Aunt Lena a favor and run to the bedroom and grab my magic wand?” She tried to smile at them, but smiling didn’t feel like something she would do for a long, long time.

“You just want us to leave so you can be mad at Daddy,” Sadie said.

“Yes, that’s true.” Colleen turned back to Walter.

“Please don’t,” Hallie interjected.

But the girls ran off, holding hands and skirting past Colleen, who kissed their cheeks.

Colleen lowered her voice. “This is family business. And you aren’t family.”

Walter stood, his true self a dark cloud. How had she only seen the charming Walter? How had she not seen what was so evident to her now—how his personality changed in a quick flash as soon as his daughters were gone from the room?