I knew something was wrong the moment Luke refused to call his best friend. But the document he showed me was only the beginning—and the real answer had been waiting eighteen years in the past.
I turned off the stove and pulled out a chair.
“Sit down, sweetheart. What happened?”
Luke stood by the door, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve. Then he locked it.
“Are we alone?”
“Yes. Did you and Ben have a fight?”
“No. Please don’t call him.”
That frightened me. Luke and Ben had been best friends since childhood. They had been excited about moving in together, and people had joked for years that they looked like twins.
“Luke, whatever happened, we’ll work through it.”
“You don’t know that.”
My stomach tightened. “Is this about you and Ben?”
“No, Mom. It’s nothing like that. It’s worse.”
He finally sat down, still wearing his jacket.
