THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT, Maggie’s discovery consumed her. It invaded her dreams, and she slept fitfully. The next morning, while her parents got ready for work and Caleb and Linnie took the dog for a walk around the neighborhood, Maggie sat the kitchen table, slouched over her coffee and an untouched piece of toast. What was she going to do?

Mom flew into the kitchen. “I’m late.” After grabbing her purse, she planted a kiss on the top of Maggie’s head and then, wearing an expression that somehow managed both defiance and remorse, hauled her into a hug.

Still sitting, Maggie found her face pressed against her mother’s stomach, transporting her to an earlier time when most embraces put her in this position. She fought the urge to burrow and cry.

Mom smoothed her hair. “Listen, sweetheart. I don’t want you to confuse what happened to you with whatever’s going on with Wren. My sister”—she exhaled heavily—“has always been a handful, drinking, getting high, disrupting everyone’s life, basically sleeping around, and raising hell. There’s no other way to put this: I hate to say she’s a troublemaker, but there you have it.”

Maggie thought about Linnie. That night she’d picked her up at the party, when Linnie had compared her history with Maggie’s, what was it she’d said? A bipolar dropout with an ugly history, an addiction or two, and a record, for good measure? I don’t qualify for justice. You, though … you painted a convincing picture, a classic picture. Maggie squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’m sorry I ever thought having you stay at my sister’s was a bright idea.”

“Aunt Wren’s been good to me.”

“No. She’s manipulating you. Tonight, we’ll talk more. I’ll make the arrangements to get you settled back home.”

Maggie sighed against her mother, remembering the previous evening’s stressful incident at the bar. Carlton wasn’t a welcoming place—not for Maggie. That was why she’d left in the first place. Mom seemed to have forgotten that.

“… not ready to see Wren,” her mother was saying. “Really, I—I just don’t want to go there, but it might be hard for you to take the bus, lugging all your stuff, so your dad will probably have to pick you up. We’ll figure it out. I’ve—” Her voice caught. She continued huskily, “I’ve missed you like crazy. As for Wren, well, I wanted to trust her, but I can’t. I simply can’t. But please…” Her hold tightened, and Maggie felt the hand against her head tremble. “Don’t ever think I doubt you. I’ve never doubted you, Maggie dear. You’re not at all like Wren.”

Not at all? Maggie pulled away.

Mom glanced at the clock and started. “Shoot. Got to go. See you tonight, sweetheart.”