me.”
I looked toward her.
She shrugged.
“It seemed appropriate.”
Dad surveyed the restaurant.
“Your mother would have liked this.”
Selina softened.
“I wish I’d met her.”
I felt that sentence deeply.
For the first time, the complicated strands connecting our families didn’t feel like secrets.
They felt like connections.
After dinner, Rowan and I walked home.
Dad had taken Leo back with the babysitter.
Rain had left the sidewalks shining.
Rowan put his hands in his coat pockets.
“Phoebe.”
“Hm?”
“I’ve been thinking about something.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
He
