Chapter 64

I’m pretty sure I broke at least three traffic rules on my way to Luke’s house. My knuckles are white against the steering wheel, and my brain is a jumble of half-formed phrases. Now that I’m pulling into his driveway, I’m not so sure why I hurried. The weight of what he told me—his son, the anniversary, the crowd in his home—is pressing down hard on my chest. I sit in the car for a moment, staring at the mansion. What do you even say to a man who’s grieving his child? ‘Hey, sorry about your son—pass the salt?’ Condolences have never been my strong suit. But I’m already here, so I grab my purse and head to the door. The second I open it, I’m hit with a cacophony of noise. Laughter, chatter, a screaming baby, and telenovela blaring from the TV. I step inside and take a moment to absorb the chaos. The first thing I notice is Javier, comfortably seated in his wheelchair near the center of the room. Next to him is a woman in her twenties holding a baby, who seems to be waging an epic war w