I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. I’m telling Becca everything. Ash hit send before she could change her mind, and switched off her phone. The relief she felt told her she’d made the right decision.

Together, Becca and Ash made dinner, chopping the veggies and potatoes and settling in at the picnic table in the backyard, the jacarandas in full bloom, Freud lingering at their feet, begging for scraps. Bound by confidentiality laws, Becca wasn’t allowed to discuss specifics of her day, though she gave Ash a vague rundown, telling her about the schizophrenic young woman she’d managed to help. They talked around today’s events, both accepting that hard conversations loomed in their future. After dinner, Ash allowed Becca to choose the movie.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Becca joked. While they watched the movie, they devoured a pint of McConnell’s Salted Caramel Chip. Becca sneaked sips of her favorite J. Lohr cab from a coffee mug. Ash always thought it was funny that Becca felt the need to sneak the wine. Alcohol wasn’t Ash’s preferred substance of choice and she didn’t care at all if Becca had a glass or two at dinner. Ash didn’t say anything, snuggling under the blanket on the sofa beside Becca, soothed by the warmth and love filling the room.

Sometime between Molly Ringwald going on a date with the smug rich guy and the short-haired redhead making an incredibly ugly pink dress, the stress of the day caught up to Ash and she drifted off to sleep. The next thing she knew Becca was shaking her.

“Hey, it’s late. You should go up to bed,” Becca said, her voice barely a whisper, the faint smell of wine on her breath. Ash didn’t argue, heading upstairs and crawling into bed, Freud snuggling up next to her. She wrapped her arms around the giant dog.

Ash wasn’t sure how much time passed. She stirred, a shiver running through her. She did a quick scan, taking in her surroundings. Fred sat at the foot of the bed, his tail wagging. The curtains fluttered in the breeze. Ash froze. The window was open. She never slept with it open, Becca’s lectures about home safety ringing in her head. Ash sensed an energy shift, an awareness that she wasn’t alone. Someone was here—in her room. Before Ash could move, a hand clamped down over her mouth.

“Shh.… it’s me,” Nate whispered. Ash’s entire body tensed. Nate had walked her home dozens of times, but he would never come inside. That was his choice. “It’s too risky if Becca comes home.” But here he was. In her bedroom. In the middle of the night. Ash squinted in the dark, straining to get a better look at him. Beads of sweat covered Nate’s upper lip, his pupils wide and dilated. There was something unhinged in his appearance and in the timbre of his voice. “Ash, I need you to be quiet and listen. You’re not going to say a word. Do you understand? Not one word.”