Trenton guided me to the living room, and I looked over my shoulder at Abby. She already looked ashamed. Travis was comforting her, but their expressions were different from everyone else’s in the room. My eyes drifted to the urn on a shelf, the one we were told held Thomas’s ashes, hoping to God they were keeping something from me and that my instinct was right. As Jim came into view, I held my breath. He was hunched over, the bags under his eyes swollen and weighing down the rest of his face. Surely, if it were all a cover-up, they would tell him. They wouldn’t let him think his son was dead.

Jim’s ice water was nearly full, so I picked the tall glass off the side table next to his recliner and prompted him to take a drink. He took a sip and then handed it back. “Thanks, sis.”

I sat on the floor next to him, rubbing his knee. “Hungry?”

The casserole dishes that filled nearly every inch of the dining table had barely been touched. A week before, the Maddox boys would have torn through it all, but the only people eating were the kids. Everyone else lumbered around like the walking dead with a wine glass or tumbler in their hands.

Jim shook his head. “No, thanks. You doing okay? You need anything? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

I smiled, not feeling so much like the monster Abby had made me out to be just moments before. I took care of Dad, and I could see that he was comforted when I was around. He knew I would take care of him. Abby could say what she wanted, and maybe part of it was true, but I was a Maddox, and the only thing that mattered to me was the way Jim and Trenton saw me.

I nodded and stood, watching as extended family cleared an area of the couch closest to Jim. Liis sat in a folded chair on the other side, holding her sleeping newborn. Stella was beautiful—one-half Liis, with her almond-shaped eyes, dark, straight hair, and pouty lips, and one-half Thomas. Her eyes still had a sheen of blue, but beneath I could tell she would have hazel green eyes like her father.

Trenton squeezed my hand, noticing that I was staring at the baby. Part of me felt obligated to look away and spare his feelings, but another demanded that I experience my feelings honestly so I could grieve like anyone else.

“She’s beautiful,” I said to my husband.

“Yes, she is.”

“It was a beautiful service,” a cousin said to Liis. The elderly woman patted Stella’s back, her fingers lingering on the navy and gray dress. “She looks so pretty.”

“Thank you,” Liis said, holding Stella close to her chest. I’d never seen folded dress socks or Mary Janes so tiny, and her diaper was covered with frilled, navy blue bloomers.

Val approached Liis, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Liis’ eyes widened a bit, and then she relaxed, even managing a small smile. Val flashed her a quick glance of a text message, and then tears fell down Liis’s cheeks.

Travis and Abby came straight over, and they decided to take the conversation into the next room, helping Liis gather the baby’s things before scurrying off to talk.

“That was … odd …” Trenton said.

I grabbed my husband’s hand, pulled him to stand, and then walked down the hall and out the back door. Jim had decided to wait until everyone left before spreading Thomas’s ashes and warned he would likely wait until just before the boys left. He was in no hurry to do something so final and needed a few days to breathe after the funeral.

“What is it?” Trenton asked.

I didn’t stop until we were under the shade tree in the farthest corner of the backyard, near the fence. The boys had carved their initials into the bark; the only difference was the middle letter. The grass was bare in some places, already dehydrated from the Illinois heat. The temperatures were hovering in the mid to high nineties, and the buzzing of the cicadas took the place of the birds. It was too hot to sing, too hot to move. The only breeze felt more like a heater blowing on us than a reprieve. But there we were, outside in a black dress and suit. Beads of sweat had already formed along Trenton’s hairline.

“Something’s not right,” I said.

“I know.”

“You know?”

Trenton loosened his tie. “Something’s off. Travis is acting weird. Abby and Dad are acting weird.”

“Do you think he knows?” I asked.

“Knows what?”

“The reason why Travis is acting so weird. He knew the twins were hotshots. He knew about Travis and Thomas. Maybe he senses something is off, too.”

Trenton shook his head. “I dunno. Maybe.”

“They wouldn’t …” I hesitated. “You don’t think they would …”

“Lie again?” Trenton muttered. “Yeah, I do.”

I tucked my chin and wrinkled my nose, feeling silly for even saying it aloud. “But not about … I mean, you don’t think Thomas is alive somewhere, getting updates about his grieving family.”

“No,” Trenton said. “They wouldn’t do that to Dad. I know you want him to be alive. I do, too. They’ve lied, but they wouldn’t do that.”

“You heard them at the hospital. Liis isn’t going to testify. Mick is missing, so he’s unable to testify. The Carlisis were seen leaving town. Maybe this was all to keep anyone else from getting killed.”

I could see in Trenton’s eyes that he wanted to believe my theory, but even after revealing the truth about Thomas and Travis, to think they were capable of causing our family so much agony was farfetched at best.

“Dad isn’t in great health. Travis wouldn’t risk it.”

“Would Dad want him to?” I asked.

Trenton mulled it over. “Yeah. He probably would.”

“Would Thomas and Travis know that?”

Trenton’s eyes bounced from one point on the ground to another. “Yeah, but …” He sighed, at his limit. “I can’t hope for that, Cami, c’mon! If it’s not true and Tommy is gone, I’ll lose him all over again.”

“Keep your voice down,” I said, reaching for him.

“Why?”

“Because if it’s true, this is all to show the Carlisis that they don’t have to threaten our family anymore. If it’s true, then someone is still watching.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ABBY

I READJUSTED AGAINST THE HARD WOOD of the NICU nursery rocking chair, thanking the nurse when she brought a folded blanket to cushion me. Carter had a few neighbors, meaning we’d made friends with two sets of new parents. Scott and Jennifer’s daughter Harper Ann was born five days ago, and she was experiencing a setback. She’d been struggling hour to hour for the last twelve hours. Jason and Amanda’s son Jake had been born two days after Carter. We were afraid he wasn’t going to make it, but he’d recovered and was nearly as big as our son was. Carter was nursing consistently and gaining weight, so he’d be able to move to the step-down unit soon, and then we’d be able to take him home.