Grace’s lower lip trembled. “I was mean to you.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Lexi said. “I shouldn’t have come here. I just … keep hurting the Farradays … and I … Can I have a hug?”
Grace scrambled over Lexi’s lap and gave her a huge hug.
Lexi clung to her daughter, trying to physically imprint the memory of this embrace on both of them. “I love you, Grace,” she whispered into her ear. “Don’t you forget that, okay?” She heard Grace’s little hiccup, and the sound pushed Lexi over the edge. She felt the start of tears, and this time there was no holding them back.
“Don’t cry, Mommy.”
Lexi wiped her eyes and pulled back just enough so that she was face-to-face with Grace. “Crying is a good thing sometimes. I’ve waited a long time for those tears. You can send me your school drawings, and I’ll put them on my fridge.” Lexi leaned closer and kissed her daughter’s plump little mouth. “And I’ll learn to make cupcakes.”
“Okay,” Grace said. She looked sad and confused and uncertain.
Lexi didn’t know how to mend those emotions without making promises she couldn’t keep. Some endings simply couldn’t be what you dreamed. All she could do was make memories now, say good-bye, and hope for a better future. She’d save her money as fast as she could and come back to claim a life with her daughter.
She kissed Grace one last time and uncoiled herself from her daughter; then she got off the bed and stood there, looking down.
Grace was furiously whispering at her wrist mirror and trying not to cry.
“Don’t cry, Gracie. It’ll be okay,” Lexi said, stroking her hair.
“That’s what she says.”
Lexi actually managed to smile at that. “You’re lucky to have such a good friend, but I’ll make you a deal: if you make friends with someone in your class, really make friends, I’ll send some cupcakes in September for the first-grade party.”
Grace wiped her eyes and looked up at Lexi. “How?”
“How what?”
“How do I make a friend? No one likes me.”
Lexi sat down again. “Well, you can’t keep punching boys and lying. If you want to make friends, you have to do friendly things. Who is the nicest girl in your class?”
“Samantha. But she never talks to me.”
“Okay. Tomorrow, you just go up to Samantha and say something nice to her. And you don’t cheat or lie one time. Tell her you like playing with her.”
“What if I don’t?”
“You will,” Lexi promised. “I had a best friend once, and I could tell her anything. She always made me smile. I never felt alone when she was around.”
She hugged her daughter one last time and forced herself to walk away from the bed, past the copy of Jane Eyre, touching it once more （it didn’t mean anything that he’d kept it; don’t think otherwise）。 In the hallway, she paused and looked back.
Grace sat huddled in the big bed, looking incredibly sad and small.
“I love you, Gracie.”
“Bye, Mommy.” Grace sniffled.
“Tell your daddy I said … hey.” She closed the door behind her.
She should have run from this house as fast as she could. And she would have, if she hadn’t looked down the hallway to Mia’s room. She moved toward it almost instinctively, opened the door.
The room welcomed her as it always had, drew her in. She went to the dresser, where Mia’s phone lay beside an English lit paper with an A written across the top. A row of plastic Breyer horses lined the windowsill. There were a dozen pictures of Mia—at play rehearsal, at dance class, sitting by the beach with Zach. There were no pictures of her and Mia in the room anymore. Once, though, they’d been everywhere.
“I haven’t let myself come in here in … a while,” Jude said behind her.
Lexi spun around, her face hot. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
Jude reached down for the stuffed puppy on the nightstand, picked it up. Daisy Doggy. “I used to sleep in here. It worried Miles and my therapist after a while, so I closed the door. Erica cleans it, but I don’t come in.”
“I can feel her in here,” Lexi said quietly.
“Can you? You’re lucky then.”
Lexi moved closer. “She loved this room but hated that mirror. She always said it looked like an art project. But she knew how much you liked it.”
Jude sat down on the bed. When she looked up, her eyes were glazed with tears and her mouth was an unsteady line. “Why did you drive that night?”