After having it out with her mother, Joey had flung herself into her bed and prayed for sleep. But sleep had been like, Ha ha ha. It was hard to conceive that only ten hours prior she’d sat with Leo on the beach, entirely oblivious to the Swiss cheese foundation of her life. Joey had to protect Lily, and she would. But first she had to process things herself. However in the world she was supposed to do that?

Joey scrolled to Siya’s contact. She hovered over the number, imagining her best friend’s shock (disapproval?) that Joey had agreed to meet Leo, and then of course Siya’s disgust at Leo’s revelations. She’d start to dash off opinions—Siya had endless, strong, well-meaning opinions—and no doubt she’d want to pick things apart with forensic scrutiny. She came by it honestly; her father was a detective and had raised Siya to believe she was a legitimate Nancy Drew. But Joey didn’t want to pick things apart even more. She needed to forget for a while. To the extent possible, distract.

Joey threw off her covers and went to the second bedroom that she used as her art den. She sat on a stool before the canvas propped upon her easel. She’d spontaneously grabbed the canvas from her parents’ house before leaving that afternoon. The canvas was a sketch of green eyes.

Lily kept calling. With each call, Joey’s charge between pencil and canvas fizzled. The phone rang again, and Joey considered flinging it at the wall. Now the screen read KATRINA—Lily’s assistant, older than Lily by a decade and perennially kind.

“Hey, Kat.”

“Finally,” came the soft, authoritative voice of Joey’s little sister.

Joey’s pencil slipped from her fingertips. Her throat felt like a clogged drain. Lily was Rand’s daughter, arguably the biggest victim of their mother’s lies—it was still so inconceivable to absorb. Joey imagined Lily, in her prime in the spotlight of their father’s affection. How could Bea have done it? Joey imagined her devastation if it were her in Lily’s place, how it would cast questions across her entire life. But Joey also couldn’t shake the tiny, mean voice inside her, saying that if not for Lily, Leo wouldn’t have broken up with Joey and sent her on a downward spiral all those years prior.

“Oh. Hi, Lil.” Joey closed her eyes. “Sorry, I was sketching.”

“It’s okay. But I hope you don’t wait this long to respond to your clients.”

“My clients don’t leave thirty seconds between calls.” And I have no clients at the moment.

“Sorry, that wasn’t fair.” Lily prided herself on being fair. Fair was her favorite buzzword. Next to feminist. And ethical fashion. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Joey said and almost laughed. Good. “How are you?”