Dr. Grant shook her head. “I know it’s not much. I’ll go up to the hospital to speak to him, see if I can find out what motivated him to come out here in the first place.” She shifted her weight and sighed, tucking her pad of paper into her breast pocket.

“I don’t know if we’re staying or not,” Mom said, her tone clipped. “So maybe we won’t need a restraining order.”

“The man in the woods called me Selene,” I said quietly. I thought Dr. Grant should probably know that detail.

“What?” Mo asked. She turned to Mom and then back to me.

Dr. Grant stared at me, a blank expression on her face.

“My birth mother’s name was Selene. She lived here. That man thought I was her.”

A look of utter shock gripped Dr. Grant’s expression. She quickly put up her arm and coughed into the crook of her elbow. When she turned back to us, she exhaled long and slow, avoiding my gaze. “So you inherited this place from your mother?”

“Selene was my birth mother. They’re my moms,” I said, gesturing toward Mom and Mo. “And I guess technically, I inherited the house from her sister, Circe.”

“Of course,” said Dr. Grant. She stood quietly for a minute.

“So, uh—yeah,” I said. “That guy in the woods, he called me Selene, but I don’t know why he’d think that. She died a long time ago.”

“You look like her,” said Dr. Grant. Her commanding voice was softer, but her mouth was pulled into a tight line like she was biting the inside of her lip.

Mom lifted a brow. “You knew her?”

Dr. Grant suddenly seemed much less sure of herself. She straightened up and cleared her throat. “I went to school with Circe. I was very sorry to hear that Selene had passed. I’m still sorry. Rhinebeck is a small place. Word got around—” She stopped short, shaking her head and swallowing hard. “That’s the past, isn’t it? No use bringing up painful things.”

Was it painful for her? She’d known Selene through Circe, but she seemed pretty wrecked talking about her death.

“I’m going to head over to the hospital to see what I can find out about your trespasser,” she said. “I’ll call you when I know more and we can discuss your options.”

Mo sighed, letting her shoulders roll forward and shaking her head. “Fine.”

Dr. Grant left, and we retreated inside.

Mom fell into the couch. “We need to talk.” I sat next to her as she ran her hand over my cheek. “We need to seriously consider packing up and getting the hell out of here.”

“I don’t want to leave,” I said.