“That’s what my dad says.” Sam was unabashed, almost like he’d taken this as a compliment. “He says that making assumptions makes an ass out of everyone involved.”

“That right?” Juno couldn’t take her eyes off him. She’d heard Nigel say those very words in that very tone to the boy, but here she was, seeing how he interpreted them.

“I was a therapist once, a very long time ago.” Juno paused to gauge Sam’s reaction. She had his attention, his murky eyes fixed on her face. This kid ticked in a different way; she just couldn’t tell how yet. She waited for him to ask the question she could tell was perched on his tongue.

“Why did you stop?”

“You never stop being a therapist.”

He thought for a minute, sucking his cheeks in like a fish, and then reworded his question. “What was your last day at work like?”

Juno felt jarred; he’d thrown her off again. In the end, she couldn’t lie to him; there was something about him that told her he’d see right through it anyway. She’d always noticed that about him during their lakeside conversations. And really, what difference did it make? Sam knew exactly what Juno was, and yet he didn’t seem to care.

“It was sad. I didn’t want it to be my last day, but sometimes there’s no way around these things.”

Sam considered this, his forehead furrowed. “You felt out of control.”

“Yes, Sam, I did,” Juno said slowly. “Unfortunately, we aren’t the only ones in control of our story arcs. Outsiders have an influence, too.”

“But we let the outsiders have an influence.”

“Yes and no. When you’re an adult you can control who you allow into your life, but you can’t control how they’ll behave once they’re there.”

“Kids don’t get that choice.”

Sam didn’t say this bitterly; rather, he was matter-of-fact, which hurt Juno’s heart. He was so tender in this moment, so vulnerable. It was hard to learn your place in the world when so many people told you different things. She’d confused the hell out of her own kids, God forgive her. In youth, people were plenty stupid—mostly because they thought they were so smart.

“Hey, regarding our conversation earlier… I have a little something for you,” she said, reaching into the paper bag at her feet. She grunted a little as she bent over, but Sam didn’t seem to notice; his eyes were glued to the bag, curiosity on his face. Fighting her uncertainty, Juno pulled out the box of Froot Loops and presented it to him. It was a stupid gift, she was almost embarrassed—except Sam’s face lit up as soon as he saw it.

“Wow. Now that’s ironic! We were just talking about Froot Loops.”