“Sure, kiddo. What’s up?”

“It’s about my mom.”

This seemed to catch Aunt Riley off guard. She smiled a worried smile. “What about her, Ollie?”

“I’m wondering if you can tell me anything about those last couple of weeks. If you knew what she was up to. Who she was seeing.”

Riley let out a long, deep sigh. “Have you talked to your dad about this?”

Olive shook her head. “No way! We don’t talk about that. Only about how things will be when Mama gets home.”

“That’s for the best, maybe.”

“I know. Dad can’t handle it. He just…can’t. But if you know anything, if there’s something you’ve been keeping from me, I want to know. Please. I can handle it, whatever it is. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

Riley reached out, took Olive’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you’re not, Ollie. You’re growing up fast. I can’t believe you’re going into your second year of high school in the fall. I remember the day your parents brought you back from the hospital, how tiny you were, how perfect. Where does time go?”

“You’re kind of doing it again, Aunt Riley,” Olive said.

“Doing what?”

“Changing the subject like you always do when Mom comes up. I’m sick of not talking about her, about what happened—aren’t you sick of it, too?”

Riley looked at her for a few seconds, thinking and frowning.

“Look, I’ll tell you what I told your dad,” Riley said at last. “The truth is I don’t know what your mom was up to. She was real secretive all of sudden. I could tell something was up. Something was different.”

“Me, too!” Olive said. “She was like that with me, too.”

It felt good to be talking about it at last, to get everything out in the open.

Riley nodded. “There was definitely some kind of change in her.”

“Do you remember the last time you saw her?” Olive asked.

“Yeah. She was at Rosy’s Tavern. I stopped in with some friends after work and she was there.”

“Was she alone?” Olive asked.

Riley hesitated, bit her lip. Olive gave her a pleading come on, we’ve gone this far look.

“No,” Riley said. “She was with a guy.”

“What guy?” Olive asked.

Riley looked away. “No one I know.”

“Well, what’d he look like?”

She looked back at Olive, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t remember exactly. Dark hair and eyes, maybe. A leather jacket.”

“Do you think maybe Sylvia knows who he was?”

Sylvia tended bar at Rosy’s and was one of Mama’s best friends, going way back before Olive was born.

“I don’t know, Ollie, and honestly, even if she did, what good does it do?”