“I’m trying to explain something. It’s not easy. I haven’t been very … forthcoming.”

“Just say it.” My blasé tone masked my fear. He was about to tell me something I didn’t want to know. Something about Kori being pregnant or that he’d sold her drugs.

“Earlier, when you were asking about Miller, I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s just that he wasn’t happy to see me. I’m not here just to help him out. I’m not even here of my own accord. When the police hauled me in for”—he made finger quotes—“assaulting you, I was already on probation.”

“Probation,” I repeated. I hesitated at the end of Mr. Miller’s driveway. Maybe I shouldn’t be letting an ex-con walk me home.

“Relax. It was just petty stuff,” he said tightly.

I glanced over at him, and figured if Kori trusted him, so could I. “It’s this way, not far,” I said, pointing down the pine-lined street toward my town house. “So, what did you do?”

“I wish I could say wrong time, wrong place, but it was more a case of wrong girl, right reason. You know what they say, though, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“And Post-it notes,” I muttered under my breath. I turned to watch a herd of shaved and spandexed cyclists pass us on the road.

“I’ve been in and out of juvie, among other things I’m not too proud of. So naturally the cops didn’t buy my innocence.”

“No, I guess they wouldn’t. But I didn’t press charges. I even told the officer that it was the guy in the Acura who Lexi called to tell them about, and that I didn’t even know who you were, but I’d just panicked and overreacted.”

He gave me a slight smile. “Yeah. Thanks for that. I still had to tell them the truth, and they still had to call my probation officer. He’s a real prick nut job. Luckily, my uncle agreed to give me a job at his place. I guess there’s a long-standing belief that working on a farm is good for a guy like me. So it smoothed things over,” he said as he shifted his weight. “Anyway, I guess what I was trying to tell you was—I’m here because of you.”

I glanced up, but he was looking away.

“Just kind of odd,” he said absently. “Fate.”

As we passed by an aspen grove, the wind teased the pale green leaves. I remembered playing among the skinny white trunks as a kid and thinking the noise—almost like the tinkle of bells—sounded magical.

We turned into the entrance of my complex and I held out my hand and took back my bag. Admittedly, it was nice not to have to lug it around. Even if it was just for five-point-five minutes.