He frowned, looking down, not seeing it yet. “Like what?”

Jess reached up, wiping her eyes. “Just look at them for a few minutes.”

She left him to study, walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Ice-cold, it burned a frigid path from her lips to her stomach.

About thirty seconds later, a quiet “What the fuck?” came from the dining room.

Jess closed her eyes. Papers rustled with renewed urgency, and the sound of them spreading out on the table was rushed.

“Jess.” She could tell from the strain in his voice that his jaw was clenched. “Can you come back here, please?”

Taking a deep breath, she set her glass in the sink and joined him in the dining room. He was standing, arms braced on the table as he bent and stared down.

“Who circled these values?”

“I don’t know.” She put her arms around his waist from behind and rested her forehead between his shoulder blades. Relieved that he knew, Jess thought they could start to figure this out together. “You okay?”

A dry laugh, and then, “No. What am I seeing? Is this for real?”

“Did you know?” she asked quietly.

His voice came out tight, as if through clenched teeth. “Of course not.”

Closing her eyes, Jess squeezed him tighter. But he didn’t turn around; in fact, Jess realized he remained completely stiff in her embrace. And for the first time it occurred to her—how was it only occurring to her now—that although Jess trusted the magic in statistical anomaly, River might look at their doctored score and see that they were never meant to be.

TWENTY-THREE

AFTER A STUNNED beat, Jess stepped away and let her arms fall to her sides. River didn’t seem to notice; his attention was still shifting over the rows of numbers as he went from page to page and back again. Her heart had lodged somewhere in her windpipe.

River let out a low groan and hung his head. “I should have seen it.”

“How?” Jess asked, incredulous. “There are thirty-five hundred numbers there. At this point, you send this information into the black box and it’s simplified so extensively you’d never know if something was off.”

“You don’t understand,” he said, turning around and ducking past her, out into the living room. “The amount of time I spent poring over the Fuchses’ data. I should have seen.”

“Not even a brain like yours can memorize thirty-five hundred numbers from almost a decade ago.” Jess moved to put a hand on his arm, but he shrugged away, turning to face the window.

His hands ripped into his hair and he let out a quiet growl. “This is a catastrophe.”

Jess stared at his back. He was right. It was a terrible thing to uncover, and David was going to have hell to pay, but wasn’t there a touch of serendipity in it, too? It had still brought them together. “I know you have a lot on your mind,” she started quietly, “but I want you to know that I love you. This doesn’t change that.”

He went still, like he was thinking about how to react to this, but then abruptly looked down at his watch. “Shit. David’s probably still at the office. I need to head over there right now.”

Jess pivoted as quickly as her heart and brain would let her. “Okay. Yes. Good.” A plan. She reached for her phone, swiping to Favorites and pressing Pops’s photo. It was already ringing when she brought it to her ear. “Let me just get Pops to sit with Juno—”

“Jess.” He reached for the phone, gently pulling it from her grip. With his eyes on the screen, he ended the call before Pops answered.

“What are you doing? I can’t leave without—”

Oh.

River was still staring at her screen, at the photo of four-year-old Juno dressed as an octopus for Halloween. His eyes were glued to the image. Had he looked at Jess once since he saw the data? “I need to talk to him alone.”

Jess exhaled a shocked laugh. “You’re not serious.”

“This is my company, Jess.”

“But this situation involves me, too. I have a right to know why he did this.”

His shoulders stiffened. “If he did this. We don’t know that this wasn’t an oversight or mistake or, or—some kind of computer glitch. I’ve known the man forever. I have to give him a chance to explain it, and I need to do it myself.”

Jess felt her jaw clench. “You seriously expect me to just cool my heels here, alone?”

He nodded tightly.

“Will you come over later?”

“I’m not sure.” River took a deep breath and finally met her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’ve really got to go, now.” He reached for his bag on the table and shoved everything inside before heading for the door. Jess trailed after him, but he couldn’t leave fast enough. Mentally, River was already gone.

She stood at the door, watching the burning, familiar sight of someone she loved walk away. “River.”

He muttered, “I’ll call you,” and then disappeared through the dark courtyard.

BUT RIVER DIDN’T call. Jess stayed up until almost three, alternating between watching TV and checking her phone. Finally she fell asleep propped awkwardly against her pillows, waking to find the TV still on and her phone still empty of messages.

She was in a terrible mood by the time the morning routine began.

“Juno, I’m trying to make your lunch. Can you leave the cat alone and get dressed? Now, please.”

Juno pouted from where she was crouched on the carpet waving one of Pigeon’s toy feathers back and forth. “I don’t know what to wear.”

“You had clothes out last night. And bring me your dishes, Bug.”

“But we have PE today, and I want to wear leggings.”

Jess swore her kid had some sort of radar that zeroed in on exactly how short her Mom Fuse was on any given day, and then turned lighting it into an Olympic sport. “So wear leggings.”

“I don’t know where they are.”

“You have at least ten pairs of them.”

“I want the black ones with the stars.”

“Did you put them in the laundry?” Jess reached for the grapes in the fridge and tucked a bunch into Juno’s lunch box. Her phone was facedown on the counter, but she left it untouched. Looking would only make her feel worse.