Chapter 2

I didn’t look at the alert again before the ceremony ended.

I kept my phone facedown beneath the tablecloth. I stayed through the last dance. I listened to every blessing people offered us.

Jason kept trying to take my hand, while Talia sat nearby, running her fingers over my mother’s ring.

She probably assumed that, because I cared about appearances, I would do what I had always done—save my anger for somewhere no one could see it.

On the drive home, I turned my phone toward Jason.

“The alert,” I said. “Who opened the back door at the lake house?”

He kept his eyes on the road for a second too long.

“The movers,” he said at last. “Talia didn’t have anywhere to keep some of her things, so I had a few boxes delivered there. I was going to tell you tomorrow.”

“You let people into my mother’s house?”

“It’s only a few boxes, Evelyn. She just moved out of her apartment, and her storage unit lease ran out. You can’t seriously tell me you wouldn’t help with that.”

He made refusal sound heartless and protection sound jealous. I stayed quiet; any argument would give Talia the role she knew best—the wounded friend with nowhere to turn except Jason.

The next morning, I drove out to the lake.

As I rounded the last bend, I saw a white moving van parked in the driveway.

So that was what had opened the back door while Jason stood beside me at our vow renewal, pretending nothing had changed.

Its back doors stood open.

Two movers were carrying boxes inside. Written in black marker across the cardboard were the words: BEDROOM. BOOKS. WINTER CLOTHES.

They were far too neatly labeled to be temporary storage.

I rushed through the front door and found my mother’s blue armchair dragged in front of the picture window.

It had been her favorite place to sit. She used to say she could watch the lake change color from there, and even bad weather didn’t seem so bad.

Talia was kneeling on the floor, unpacking a lamp. When she saw me, her hands stopped moving.

“Jason didn’t tell you I’d be here so early?” she asked, trying for a smile. “I thought I’d wait until everything was settled and show you.”

“Show me what?”

“How well I can take care of the place.” She glanced around the room, softening her voice. “Your mother wouldn’t have wanted this house sitting empty.”

Jason had told her which grief I still could not enter.

I walked past her and looked into the guest room. Fresh bedding covered the bed.

Her skincare products lined the bathroom counter. A pair of slippers I had seen her wear dozens of times sat by the front door.

Jason’s car was tucked beside the garage. He must have left home minutes after I did and taken the back road.

There was nothing temporary about any of it.

I photographed the labeled boxes, the mail on the counter, and the ring still on Talia’s hand.

“I asked you to return that last night.”

She covered it with her other hand. “Jason gave it to me.”

“It was never his.”

Jason came downstairs, his face tight with the irritation of someone who hadn’t slept.

“Don’t scare her,” he said. “Talia’s only staying a few weeks.”

“Who agreed to that?”

“She needs somewhere to go.”

“This is my mother’s house.”

He looked at me, his patience thinning. “It’s also a house I’ve spent years helping you look after. Are you really going to make her move again over a few empty rooms?”

I didn’t answer.

I went outside and opened the old metal mailbox.

The first envelope was addressed to Talia Caldwell.

The postmark was from three months earlier.