But when the door opens, it’s not Dallas standing there. It’s Tanya. Finn has a flash of Tanya’s fist flying towards her face the night before. This is the second time she expected Dallas and got Tanya instead. The air has grown hotter around her, suffocating, just like she imagined.

“It’s you,” says Tanya. Finn half expects her to punch her again, but then she realizes Tanya is looking at Ross.

“It’s me,” Ross confirms confidently. He smiles. It is him, this he knows for sure.

Finn wishes she could say the same thing about herself.

EIGHTEEN

The woman at the door is not the woman Tanya expects. She just looks like her. But the boy, the boy she knows. The woman is an imposter, but the boy is real.

“It’s you,” she says to the boy, and the boy gazes up at her.

“It’s me,” he says, because he knows who he is. He is just himself, nobody’s son. He doesn’t have a shadow to live in. No legacy to tie himself to. His mother’s, maybe. But with boys, it’s always the father anyway.

She opens the door to invite them inside. The woman glares at her as they enter, probably wondering if Tanya is going to hit her again. Tanya wonders that, too. Not that she wants to, but you never know. Circumstances could change. This woman is a Parker, so she is Tanya’s natural enemy.

Tanya regrets punching the woman. She doesn’t usually drink. It causes too much chaos in her body, too much confusion. It’s too easy to lose herself, her mind spiralling out of control, her small, dark thoughts becoming monstrous and wild. Plus she has seen the way it can take over someone’s life. Her mother. Her brothers. Even Dallas. Sometimes, though, it’s just easier to drink. People won’t stare at you, ask you questions. Assume you are going to judge them. Tanya tries not to judge anyone. Except herself.