Since I couldn’t drive and check my Twitter feed at the same time—something I silently lamented—I turned the car radio on as I headed back to my in-laws’ house. News about Kyle and the investigation into Jennifer’s death had slowed to a trickle. The radio mindlessly scanned through all the stations, beeping each time it landed on a new one, but only sports, information about a flower show, and a minister imploring us all to return to Jesus and give up our sinful ways came through.

The sky clouded over, and the wind picked up, shaking the trees and bushes as I entered the subdivision. The April weather was changeable, jumping from sun to clouds at random. I looked forward to the coming weeks when it would calm, when we could take Henry to the park and push him around the walking trail in his stroller, the flowers in bloom, the winter far behind.

I eased to a stop at the end of the driveway. Before I pushed the door open, Amanda came out and headed over to me. I watched her through the glass, struck by how much she looked like Karen. They both walked in the same brisk manner, as though they were always on a mission to accomplish something decidedly important. Amanda pulled her sweatshirt tighter across her body as she walked, protection against the rising of the chilly wind. Her hair blew across her face, and she brushed it away before opening the door and settling in the passenger seat.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.

Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing faster than normal. “I’m fine. I guess. And Henry’s perfectly fine. My parents are undoing any routine and structure we’ve established. But I guess that’s what grandparents do.”

“They do know something about raising kids, don’t they?”

“Yes, they do.”

“So, what is going on that I had to rush back here?”

I’d wondered the whole way if someone had tracked Amanda and Henry to her parents’ house. Had it been someone like Dawn, jumping the gun on her own deadline?

But Amanda still didn’t answer my question.

“Where’s Blake?” she asked. “Did he show up?”

I couldn’t lie. I just couldn’t. The thought of not telling the truth made me feel tired. “He’s at our house.”

“Doing what?”

“He needed to use my computer.”

“He’s in our house?”

“You called me away, so I left him there. It’s a long story. It was the easiest thing to do in the moment. At least Henry isn’t there. If anyone hits their head on a lamp, it will be Blake.”

“Why does he— Never mind. I don’t need to know. I can tolerate you being friends with him, but there are limits.”

“What is so urgent here?” I asked. “I thought everything would be quiet.”