Alexa smiled indulgently. “Homecoming queen isn’t really a thing anymore, Mom. That’s like super old-fashioned.”

“Well. Still. You know what I mean.” Alexa granted this statement a slightly condescending nod. “In a way,” Rebecca continued, “in a way it never ends. We’re in high school for the rest of our lives, like it or not.”

“Please, no,” said Alexa. “I just got out of high school. Whatever else you do, please don’t tell me that I’m stuck there for the rest of my life.” She turned into the driveway and parked neatly, pulling up on the emergency brake just the way Peter had taught her. Rebecca had left the whole of Alexa’s driving education to Peter and the professionals at Hoffman Driving School. She didn’t have the stomach for it herself. As a result, Alexa could parallel park like nobody’s business, and she could drive through rush-hour traffic on Storrow Drive without breaking a sweat.

“Peter would be proud of you,” Rebecca said now.

“For what? My parking? It’s just a driveway, Mom. Morgan could park here.”

“Well, your parking, to start with. But a lot of other things besides.”

Alexa winced. There was a moment where Rebecca thought Alexa might hug her, or that she might even cry. But: “Thanks,” she said softly, not meeting Rebecca’s eyes, hopping out of the Jeep, landing softly on her illegal bare feet.

16.

Alexa

One day close to the end of June, Alexa locked the door and readied herself for the camera. She surveyed the contents of her closet and consulted her list of what she’d worn in previous videos.

Alexa kept her online outfits in the back of her closet, behind her winter coats, just in case anyone ever came snooping. She selected her Diane Von Furstenberg Julian silk jersey mini wrap dress in Sussex stripe hydrangea; she found that when she wore vertical stripes her viewers took her more seriously. She could tell by the comments. In the bathroom, she employed her hair straightener to tame the curated beachy look she wore at the Cottage and, finally, she used her Tom Ford eye color, which cost eighty-eight dollars at Sephora. Alexa believed this to be a silly amount of money to spend on four shades of eyeshadow, but she also believed in looking the part, and she further believed that when you had money you should spend it on quality items.

She tested the microphone by reciting the first stanza of “The Raven,” which she’d had to memorize in eighth grade and had never forgotten. “Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,” she began.

A knock at the door. She sighed and turned off the camera. Suddenly there came a tapping, she thought. “Yes?”

“Alexa?” Morgan.

“What’s up, Morgs? I’m in the middle of something.”

“Who’s in there?”

“No one’s in here.”

“I thought you were talking to someone.”