A man in his forties, wearing Dockers and a polo shirt, gray hair feathering his temples, answered.

“Hi, I’m Emma Grant, Carson’s school counselor.”

After a moment, awareness dawned on him.

“Emma. Oh yes, we’re expecting you. Austin Clark, Carson’s father.” He shook her hand. “Please come in. I just made some coffee—would you like some? Or juice, a soft drink?”

“Coffee’s fine, thanks.”

He led her to the kitchen, which opened to the dining room and glass doors leading to the backyard, the patio and the pool. Austin indicated the stools at the breakfast bar and Emma took one, glancing around.

“Where’s Carson?”

“Upstairs with his mom. They’ll be down.”

“How is he doing?”

“Good. Cream? Sugar?”

“Just a little cream, please.”

“He’s seeing a psychiatrist,” Austin said. “She’s got him on a mild medication and—” The ceramic mug shook a little as he set Emma’s coffee before her. “I don’t know how to thank you for what you did.”

Emma smiled and nodded, turning to the hall, where a woman was watching them. She was in her forties, dressed in a peach sweater and white slacks. A floral-patterned scarf covered her head. Emma noticed that she’d lost her eyebrows and eyelashes from her treatment.

“I’m Sonia, Carson’s mom. You must be Emma.”

“Yes.” Emma stood to shake her hand.

Sonia ignored it, embracing her in a powerful hug.

“Thank you,” Sonia said. “For saving our son.”

Emma nodded, brushing tears from her eyes.

“Hi, Ms. Grant.”

They all turned to Carson. Hair mussed, he was wearing shorts and a hoodie with the hood pulled up. He sipped from a bottle of apple juice in his hand, then stood there, looking at everyone before speaking.

“We know you want to talk to Emma, so Dad and I can leave you guys alone,” Sonia said.

“No, we’ll go outside.”

Carson opened the patio doors for Emma and the two of them went out. They leaned on the counter of the poolside bar, staring at the water.

“I’m sorry,” Carson said. “What I did was so stupid and so embarrassing.”

“No, no.” Emma touched his shoulder. “No need to apologize.”

“I felt, well, actually, I felt nothing. Just lost, empty, overwhelmed by everything, you know?”

“Yes. I do. Just about everyone has felt that way. But you wanted to kill the moment, not yourself.”

A smile began to emerge on his face.

“What is it?” she asked.

“That’s sorta what my shrink said, and I guess there’s some truth to it. I’ve got a lot of things to work on.”

“Give it time,” she said. “I’m so happy you’re still here with us.”

Carson smiled that broad smile. “Thank you for saving my life, Ms. Grant.”