“I don’t like that man,” she says to me finally as a few more tears fall. “And Jackson,” she falters here, shakes her head and looks at me but I get the feeling she’s miles away.

“I heard you fighting. I’m sorry. We’d just walked up to the door and I could hear.”

“I’m sure the whole street heard. Everyone but Jackson, that is.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighs deeply. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“This is big, Ivy. Like really big. But I think Jackson is making a mistake and there’s no one I can talk to.” Her voice breaks and she’s openly crying now.

“Colette,” I get up, take some tissues from a box nearby and hand them to her, then crouch down to take her hand. “Whatever it is, you can trust me.”

She nods, squeezes my hand.

The door opens quietly then and the same woman who’d served us last time brings in a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of small cakes. She smiles warmly but doesn’t speak and just glances at the baby. I know she’s trying to keep quiet for Ben.

Colette thanks her and a moment later she’s gone.

“I love those cakes. I can’t get enough. I’m going to be big as a house if she doesn’t stop baking them.” She’s attempting humor and I smile but it’s not quite working.

I get up, put one of the cakes on a plate and bring it and a glass of iced tea to her. She takes the cake and I set the tea on the nearby table then make myself a plate too. I don’t eat it, though. I’m too worried about her to eat.

“I saw Holton leave,” I say.

“He’s a bastard.” She falls silent, distant again and sets the barely nibbled on cake aside.

“Colette?”

She just shakes her head like she can’t speak just yet.

“He was there when my…when I had the virginity test.” I manage the words, feeling my face flush.

Colette’s mouth tightens into a thin line. “Santiago made you—”

I shake my head. “He didn’t know. It was my brother. My half brother.”

“Abel.”

“You know him?”

“Not personally,” she says, but from her tone I know she doesn’t like what she does know and I wonder if Holton’s visit is somehow tied to Abel.

“Santiago wouldn’t have made me do that,” I say with the knowledge that it’s true. Even then he wouldn’t have submitted me to that humiliation. “But Holton stood as witness and I still shudder when I think of his eyes on me. His hand when he—”

“God, Ivy.” Her hand is covering her mouth, her eyes wide.

I shake my head. “What did he do to you? Why do you hate him?”