“Probably,” Hope said, feeling a surge of tenderness for her sister, “you should try and sleep.”

Later, when Allegra was in fact asleep and snoring softly in Hope’s bed, Hope texted Brick.

She said: You should probably forgive her.

No way, he texted back. Never.

EDDIE

Eddie was still half-asleep when he arrived at the police station to pick up Allegra. The Chief had been the one to call Eddie, and when Eddie heard the Chief’s voice, he turned into quivering jelly. He thought, Barbie was right. He thought, The girls have been caught with Kasper Snacks out at Ten Low Beach Road. Eddie wasn’t going to lie. When the Chief said he was calling because Allegra had been caught drinking in Ram’s Pasture, Eddie had felt nearly giddy with relief. Then the appropriate emotions caught up with him, and he said, “For God’s sake, Ed, you’re kidding.”

“I wish I were,” the Chief said. “I’m sorry, Eddie. She’s at the station. You’ll have to go get her.”

Eddie said, “I guess I took the wrong daughter out for dinner.”

The Chief said, “They’re teenagers, Eddie. What can you do?”

The Coburn kid’s parents were at the station, the father a hothead all up in arms, yelling at the staff officer, the mother blond and silently uptight. Eddie didn’t know either of them well enough to say hello. He would have liked to have told them what a bad influence and corrupting reprobate their son was, but Eddie focused on collecting Allegra and getting her home.

Once in the car, Eddie grounded Allegra for the rest of her life. Then he took her phone. He said, Do you know what it feels like to have the chief of police call in the middle of the night? Your mother and I thought you were dead! But no, you’re just a druggie boozehound sitting out in public in your underwear with some guy who isn’t even your boyfriend! They have names for people like that, Allegra, and they aren’t very flattering!

Allegra cried. And then she bawled and hiccupped and sounded as if she were having an epileptic seizure. Eddie nearly handed the phone over and told her that everything was going to be okay and that he was just glad she was safe. After all, nobody was perfect, least of all him. But he recognized that one of the reasons Allegra had acted this way was because Eddie and Grace indulged her. It had to stop!

When Eddie woke up the next morning, it felt like his heart had been braised in a stew pot overnight. He couldn’t move, could not rise or get dressed or brush his teeth or face down a cup of coffee or imagine himself upright behind the wheel of his Cayenne. Even the name of his car inflamed his heart. Why had he ever bought it? Because it was a Porsche, because he wanted to impress his clients, because he wanted to give the impression of being hot.

He couldn’t move from his supine position under the covers. He couldn’t rise to relieve his bladder.

“Grace,” he moaned. There was no answer.

Eddie closed his eyes and prayed for sleep. For the first time in forever, Eddie wasn’t going to work.

When he awoke at noon, the house was quiet. Where was Grace? Had she come to check on him? There was no note, no glass of ice water, no new bottle of cherry Tums placed thoughtfully on his nightstand. Did she not find it unusual that Eddie had slept until noon? Was she not worried?

Miraculously, Eddie found he could stand, although he was shaky. He put on his oldest, softest khaki shorts and his T-shirt from Santos Rubbish Removal, and he crept out into the hallway. It had been so long since he’d been home in the middle of a weekday that he felt like a prowler. The doors to the twins’ rooms were closed. Were they still sleeping? Hope had a job at the church rectory—she would most likely be there—but what about Allegra? Had she gotten up to go to her SAT prep course, or was that over? Eddie couldn’t remember. He was a lazy-ass parent. He paid for Allegra’s class, but when he remembered to ask her how it was going, he barely listened to her answer. And when the class was over, how did Allegra spend her days? Eddie had a vague idea that she went to the beach with her friends. Where, he now suspected, she smoked weed and drank Wild Turkey. But that lifestyle was coming to a screaming halt. Eddie should bring Allegra into the office and make her file—but he was afraid she might develop a taste for the business, and he didn’t want that. Real estate crapped upon the soul.

Allegra was probably asleep, he decided. He should wake her up and make her help Grace with the hens. He stared at her closed bedroom door, considering this—but he was in too much pain for a confrontation.

Eddie shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen. Grace had been to the henhouse already, probably twice. Seven dozen eggs waited in cartons on the counter. And there were fixings out for lunch; it looked as if Grace were making turkey club sandwiches. Eddie was starving, but he feared eating.

He poured himself a cold glass of milk. Through the open kitchen window, he heard Grace crying. Naturally, she would be upset about Allegra; she would be blaming herself. He heard her say, “I’m afraid of her. Isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard? I’m afraid of my own daughter.”

It wasn’t the worst thing Eddie had ever heard. He was a bit afraid of Allegra himself. She was so confident, so in charge of her world, that he sometimes forgot she had been alive for only sixteen years. Of course, Eddie wielded slightly more influence over their daughter because he controlled her spending power, but he agreed that Allegra was intimidating.

Whoever Grace was talking to murmured a response that Eddie didn’t hear. Who was she with? But no sooner did he ask himself this than he realized Grace was confiding in the gardener. Benton Coe.