“What? Like you thought we’d leave? In the middle of the
night? Don’t be dramatic, Cass.”
“The woman’s
missing
.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with Dad.”
“Well, if either of you had answered your phones last
night—”
“Cass, you should know better than to think like that. And
your mom? She’s known him her whole life. Why would she
start thinking those things now?” I ignore the fact that I was
thinking some of those same things not so long ago.
She sighs and glances in the rearview mirror before back-
ing out of the driveway. “To be honest—and don’t get mad,
okay? But Mom’s starting to say stuff that makes me think . . . I
mean, it seems like—she’s not so sure Dad’s in the clear.”
I shake my head. Cassidy is clearly taking Heather’s
comments out of context, blowing them out of proportion—
something
. Heather would never actually accuse Dad of
something like this. “She’s mad at him. They’re getting
divorced. Of course she isn’t going to say nice things about
him right now. But that doesn’t mean she thinks he’s capable
of . . . you know.”
“I know. But, God, what
else
can happen, right?”
“You know what Dad said today?” I help myself to Cassidy’s
compact. “He said he loves your mom.”
She raises a brow. “He
loves
her. That’s what he said?”
“He said,
I love Cass, and I love Heather
.”
“Huh.”
“Does your mom ever say things like that, or say anything
about why they split?”
“You mean, besides the standard we’re-too-different
discussion? No. But they
are
different. Divorce doesn’t have
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