I drove home fast, recklessly, my camera equipment rattling in the carriage of my truck. Freya had no respect for me or my time. True, I had nothing else to do, but I’d spent my hard-earned money (plus sixty bucks I’d stolen from Leonard) on lighting equipment to make her look beautiful. And she didn’t even care. She’d dismissed me like a servant, chosen time with Jamie over time with me. I hated her.

“Anger is just misplaced fear,” my mom and dad were fond of saying. When I was little and would throw a tantrum, they’d ask: “What are you afraid of, darling?”

I’m afraid I’m going to bite you if you keep talking to me in that condescending tone.

But now, it made sense. I was scared of losing Freya, terrified of returning to the lonely, solitary existence that predated her. If she chose to banish me, to replace me with Jamie again, I would have no one. The thought filled me with heaviness and darkness.

Pulling into our rutted driveway, I noticed an unfamiliar car parked next to the chicken coop. It wasn’t unusual for my parents or Gwen to have visitors; friends who joined them for potluck meals, or drinks. These friends could sometimes turn into lovers when invited to one of the infamous “sauna parties.” But since Eckhart had been born, my family’s social life had shriveled in the face of his demands.

With my lights and tripod under my arm, I struggled into the house. As soon as I opened the door, my mom called to me. “Swallow? Is that you?”

“Yep,” I replied, kicking off my shoes and propping my equipment in the entryway.

“You have a visitor.”

There was only one person it could be.

“Hi, Low,” Thompson said, as I entered the living room. He was seated on a chintz armchair facing my mom, who was breastfeeding Eckhart, but he jumped to his feet. What was he going to do? Hug me? Kiss my cheek? Shake my hand? I took a step back.

“What are you doing here?” I muttered.

“You haven’t returned any of my texts or DMs, so I thought I’d stop by. Do you want go for pizza or something?”

“It’s three thirty. I’m not hungry.”

“We could go for a drive. Or watch TV. Or play a video game.” He looked toward my mom. “We can go to my place, so we don’t disturb the baby.”

“I’m good,” I said.

My mom suddenly pulled her breast from Eckhart’s mouth with a loud suctioning sound. “Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a sec?”

Uh-oh.

Alone in the kitchen, Eckhart reached out for me. I’d been ignoring him since Freya had taken me back, but apparently, he still remembered our time together. I took him and jiggled him on my hip, as my mom launched into her whispered lecture.