Truman couldn’t be sure, but he thought Ash was just making things up. From what he could piece together, Ash had once lived in the house Marjorie now owned. In her confusion over him not showing up when he usually did, Julia thought she was supposed to go to his house and ended up there.

Confusion aside, Julia was lovely to talk to and told stories that Truman thought might be at least fifty percent fiction—she seemed to have a love of literature and movies and to shift seamlessly from her own experiences to those she’d read about or watched. Still, dinner was entertaining, and Ash seemed to relax once they’d sat down.

In the middle of a monologue about In Cold Blood, Julia trailed off, her eyelids heavy. “Ashleigh?” she said. “Did Claire get home yet?”

Truman watched as Ash’s face aged ten years without moving.

“No, Mama. She’s not coming home tonight.”

“She’s not?”

“No, she’s out of town.”

Confusion flickered on Julia’s face for a moment, but it was her attempt to hide it that was heartbreaking.

“Of course, I know she’s out of town. You don’t think I know where my own sister is? She’s visiting that boy. I don’t like him. He’s too old for her.”

Ash nodded. “Yeah, I don’t like him either.”

Julia’s face smoothed back out into a serene mask, but her eyes were far away and they stayed that way.

After dinner, Ash settled Julia in front of the TV, putting on an old movie that she liked. “I’m gonna go get some sleep, Mama,” Ash said.

Julia cupped his cheek.

“You do that, sweetheart. You look very tired.”

“I am,” Ash said. His voice cracked.

They got their coats and boots on as she stared at the television, but as they opened the door, she called, “Capote!”

“Uh,” Truman said. “Yeah?”

“The Clutters thought they were safe because nothing like that had ever happened before. But there’s a first time for everything.”

Truman blinked. It was a common cliché, but in the context, he found her words chilling. “Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he said.

“Okay, goodnight, Mama,” Ash said and quickly shut the door. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Hey, hey. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. What do you mean?”

Ash shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind. Sorry.”

They drove back to Thorn in tense silence. It turned out there was a side entrance that led directly upstairs, and Truman went inside with him without asking.

Ash stripped off his coat and boots and poured food into Bruce’s bowl. Once Bruce was happily snarfing it up, Ash sat down on the couch and closed his eyes.