Alice’s hand began moving automatically. “Anyway,” Alice said, “it’s a pretty strange thing to lie about, or to lie by omission about. I mean, if you ask me.”

“What’s so strange about it, Allie? It’s obviously an incredibly painful and horrific thing for him. Like, he can’t even admit that it actually happened, that she killed herself. So why would he admit it to mom?”

“Do you think she knows the truth? Even if she told us the version he told her?”

“Yeah, I think she put it together.”

“What makes you say so?”

“Instinct. Plus, it explains a few things. Like why she’s so careful of Richard, so considerate of his feelings. Way more than she ever was of dad’s.”

Alice’s hand stopped. “You noticed that, too?”

Charlie nodded.

“I miss him,” Alice said softly.

“I miss him, too,” Charlie said, just as softly. “And then”—her voice hardening—“I remember he dumped us, left mom with no money. That helps me miss him a little less.”

After a beat of silence, Alice said, “So any guesses as to why she did it? Camilla, I mean.”

“No mystery there. You heard what Cybill said. She was upset about her mom.”

“And that was enough to drive her to suicide, you think?”

Charlie appeared taken aback. “If our mom was the victim of some horrible disease, dropped down to scarecrow weight, bald and terrified and in pain, you’d probably be in a pretty fucked up state of mind, too.”

Alice looked at Charlie, looked away. “Does it make you feel differently about Richard? The fact that Camilla did it on purpose?”

“Differently how?”

“Less sorry, I guess. Not like it’s his fault she killed herself, but maybe it is a little bit his fault.”

“Actually, it makes me feel more sorry for him. He probably thinks the way you do, that he’s to blame. That’s, like, a heavy burden to bear.”

They fell into another silence, this one considerably longer. It was Charlie who ended it this time. Yawning and stretching in a way that reminded Alice of a cat, she said, “It’s been a long night. I’m going to take a nice, hot bubble bath, then go to bed.”

“You use that claw-foot tub thing to take baths in?”

“You don’t?”

Alice shook her head. “Too fancy for me. I use the shower. The tub makes me self-conscious or something.”

“Not me. I’m lapping up this lap-of-luxury thing.”

“So you’re going to hang out with Cybill tomorrow?”

“That’s the plan.”

“You like her then?” Alice said.

“Yeah.”

“And want to be her friend?”

“Definitely.”

“I can’t believe you trust that girl.”

Charlie grinned. “Oh, I don’t. But that’s got nothing to do with liking her.”

At that moment, Alice’s cell phone rang. She fished it out of her bag. Patrick.