Chapter Seven

Several hours later I was dragging my tired ass toward the house and groaning with each step like an unoiled hinge. Despite my exhaustion, I hadn’t wanted to leave the office. But Gardner had all but kicked me out about half an hour earlier. “You’re not going to break this case tonight,” she said. “Go home.”

At the time, I’d considered arguing, but she’d been right. After our aborted attempt to talk to LM and Mary, Morales and I had headed back to the gym and hit one brick wall after another on the case. Mez had been called away to assist in a crime scene on the other side of town, which meant he didn’t have time to process the evidence from the temple. I’d made several fruitless calls to other snitches, but no one knew anything—or else they weren’t in a talking mood. I’d also called some old patrol colleagues to see if they’d heard of any crimes similar to the MO of Aphrodite’s robbery and got a whole lot of nothing. So I’d packed up and headed out, promising the team I’d see them early the next morning.

Halfway to the front door, a sense of foreboding scratched at the back of my scalp. Nothing concrete, really, just a tingle of awareness. Pausing at the base of the porch steps, I peered back down the street. The neighborhood was dark, and except for a couple of dogs barking a few streets over, there weren’t any discernible noises. No unusual vehicles were parked along the curb. I chewed on my bottom lip and tried to put my finger on what was different. I swiveled my head back toward the door. That’s when it hit me.

The house was dark.

It was almost seven, which meant Danny should have been up and watching TV with Baba in the den. But every light in the place was extinguished. It wasn’t just quiet and dark—it was ominously quiet and dark, as if the house were holding its breath.

My holster dangled from my hand. I removed the weapon and laid the leather rig on the porch. Crouching low, I tested the doorknob and found it unlocked. The door swung in quietly, and I stopped it before it could bump off the wall. With cautious steps I crept inside, careful to avoid the squeaky parts of the old linoleum. A quick scan of the kitchen revealed nothing but the usual shadows. I placed a hand on the oven and found it warm. Someone had been cooking. Baba often cooked dinner for Danny. But if she’d been cooking, where were they both now?

Behind me, the sound of a car door closing filtered in from the street.

I skirted the bistro table and headed toward the opening that led to the den off the kitchen. My left hand gripped the gun tighter with each step, but I tried to stay calm. Freaking out and imagining all sorts of horrible things wouldn’t help. Best to stay focused on one foot in front of the other and keeping my senses open for clues. Closer to the opening now, I heard a slight intake of breath. Not a gasp. Just a stifled breath.

I paused, gun at the ready, and opened my mouth to issue an order to stand down. But before the words could leave my mouth, light flared like a sun in the room. I squinted and fell back a step. Shapes moved in the light, and noise emerged from the forms. “Surprise!”

It all happened so fast it took my brain a couple of seconds to register what I was hearing and seeing.

At about the same moment I realized I’d walked in on a party, the couple of dozen people in my den realized I was holding them at gunpoint. I froze. They froze.

“Jeez, Kate.” Danny emerged from the crowd and frowned at me like I’d just embarrassed him. “Put the gun away.”

My cheeks heating, I lowered the weapon to my side. “What the hell’s going on?”

Pen came to join my little brother. She looked more amused than alarmed.

“Surprise!” Pen said. “We knew you’d never agree to an official group celebration so we brought one to you.”

“For what?” I frowned, praying it wasn’t for my Arcane Anonymous anniversary.

“Your ten-year anniversary of sobriety!” Danny announced. He thrust a can of soda in the hand that had held a gun.

The words entered my ears and promptly sank to the bottom of my gut where they corroded in my stomach acid. I bit my tongue to keep from uttering a curse that would make a hardened criminal blush.

Danny bounced on the balls of his feet like a little kid at a birthday party. The pride in his face at pulling off the surprise made me keep my expression neutral. But inside I was raging. Instead of taking that out on the kid, who didn’t know better than to ambush me with a party I didn’t want, I glared at my best friend.

She grabbed me and pulled me in for a hug. “Smile,” she hissed into my ear, “they put a lot of work into this.”

Before I could tell her where to shove that suggestion, a warm hand landed on my shoulder. I pulled away from my best friend and rounded to find Morales standing behind me wearing a gotcha smile.

“You knew about this?” I snapped.

Shadi walked up behind him, with Mez and Gardner not far behind.

My partner shot me a guilty grin and nodded. “We were sworn to secrecy.”

Shadi laughed. “I really thought I screwed the pooch this morning when I mentioned tonight.”

My mouth fell open. “Wait, this is what you were talking about?”

She tipped her head. “Yeah, what’d you think I meant?”

Morales cleared his throat, a subtle reminder of the stupid question I’d asked about the nature of their relationship. Ignoring him, I said, “I wasn’t sure.”

She moved on to go say hi to Pen and Danny. Morales hung back. “So you really were surprised?”

I made an angry sound deep in my throat.

“Whoa. Not a fan of surprises, then?”

“Ambush, you mean.”

“Well,” he said, “you stopped using magic, but you obviously haven’t given up bitchcraft.”

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and tried to get a harness on my anger. Morales didn’t know the reasons why I didn’t want this party. Actually, no one did. “Sorry. It’s just—touchy.”

He laughed and replaced the soda with a beer. “Drink up, Cupcake. Try to enjoy your own party.”

At that moment Baba shuffled forward with her cane. “Ha! We got ya!”

I forced a smile. “Sure did.”

“Hey there, hot stuff,” she said to Morales.

My seventysomething-year-old next-door neighbor had taken a shine to my partner the first time she’d met him. He endured her flirtations with humor, and never complained when she pinched his backside.

“Hey, good lookin’,” he flirted back. “Is that a new dress?”

“This old thing?” She pointed a black orthopedic shoe like a Rockette. “Why don’t you come put those muscles to use and pass around some drinks?”

He shot me a grin before offering her his arm like a real gallant. She giggled and grabbed his bicep, giving it a squeeze as one might a ripe melon. As the pair moved away, I saw the perfect opening to get the hell out of Dodge.

“Kate?” Rufus called, preventing my escape.

Rufus Xavier was the leader of the Arcane Anonymous group I’d belonged to for the last decade. I hadn’t talked to him in about a month, since I’d been skipping our weekly meetings. He’d been calling me at least once a week, though, and giving me shit for my lack of attendance. The man’s middle name was “Tough Love,” and he looked for any opportunity to call us on our bullshit.

I took a deep breath and forced some new life into my false smile. “Wow, this was unexpected.”

“Shouldn’t be. The way you been playing hooky?” He speared me with a knowing glare. “How long you think I was gonna let it go?”

My hands shoved into my pockets, I looked away from the man I considered both a mentor and a friend. “Wasn’t playing hooky,” I muttered. “We’ve been swamped with the double moons.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said. “Tell that to some muh-fucker ain’t already heard every excuse in the damned book, girl.”

I looked down at my beer, willing it to turn into something stronger. Nearby, Danny turned on some music, which filled the room with a booming bass line.

“What’s going on with you, Kate?” Ru said, leaning in to be heard.

Ru was the kind of man you wanted to trust. Everything about him invited sharing secrets.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Gardner chatting with Mez, Danny, and Baba.

But my secrets weren’t going to be shared in that room with that crowd. Or ever, if I had my way.

“I’ve had some stuff on my mind I’m not ready to talk about.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “It’s no wonder after what happened to the boy.” He patted me on the arm. “Tonight’s for celebrating, but soon enough you’re going to have to purge those demons before they eat you alive.”

I swallowed and nodded. His words struck too close to the truth for comfort. “Maybe once things quiet down. After Halloween.”

His mouth tightened, a sure sign he was about to start one of his lectures. I held up a hand. “Listen, I need to go grab something. I’ll be right back.”

“But—”

I turned away before he could continue. I escaped through the kitchen and into my bedroom. The instant the door closed behind me, I slid down the plane until my butt hit the floor.

For weeks, I’d been waking up from dreams of cooking. Sometimes it was an orgasm that woke me, other times, bone-shaking sobs. I’d known my choice to use magic was wrong, but the surge of power that came with manipulating that kind of energy was seductive. Cooking was a lot like masturbation. Doing it had left me feeling dirty, but I couldn’t stop thinking about wanting to do it some more.

The worst part had been knowing it was only a matter of time until the choices I’d made that night in the factory with John Volos came back to bite me. Arriving to a house full of people I cared about who had no idea they were celebrating a lie was too much to bear.

I put my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. How had I gone from a clean-and-sober cop with a great record to a liar who got off on cooking dirty potions in abandoned factories?

A soft knock sent vibrations through the wood at my back. “Kate?” Pen whispered.

I rubbed my hands over my eyes, as if maybe I could wipe away the traces of guilt. With a groan, I pulled my ass off the ground and opened the door just enough for her to slip through.

“Hey,” she said with an exaggerated smile. The kind moms give their kids when they’re trying to pretend nothing’s wrong.

I leaned back against the dresser. “Hey.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

I shot her a look. “Seriously?”

She sighed. “I don’t get why you’re being so stubborn about this—”

I slashed a hand through the air. “You don’t have to understand it. You just needed to respect my wishes.”

“Rufus thought since you hadn’t been to group in a while—”

“I haven’t been to group because I’ve been fucking busy!”

Her face morphed from confusion to anger. “Jesus, what is your problem? You’re acting like this anniversary is something to be ashamed of.”

“That’s because it’s not a real anniversary. I’ve seen what real junkies go through and my challenges didn’t even begin to compare.”

After my mother died from using a potion I’d cooked, I’d realized that magic had poisoned my life and I’d be better off without it altogether. I’d joined AA to have a visceral reminder of why I’d quit cooking in the first place. Seeing all those sad cases trudge into meeting every week reminded me that there are real human costs to messing with magic in any form.

She frowned. “You have to know what an accomplishment it is. You walked away from one of the most powerful covens in the Cauldron and turned your back on your own magic to give yourself and Danny a better life. That is what’s worth celebrating. It’s not about who had the hardest road to travel. It’s about all of us being so grateful you’re in our lives.”

Those words should have warmed me. Made me thaw enough to admit maybe she was right. Instead, they simply added another layer of frigid self-loathing. “You wouldn’t be grateful if—” I stopped short and redirected. “Look, I’m just tired and I had a shitty day.”

She stepped forward. “Wouldn’t be grateful if what?”

“Just tell everyone to go, okay?” Panic made my voice rise.

“You want them to go?” She stabbed a finger toward the door. “You want to disappoint them and tell them you don’t give a shit that they care about you? Do it your damned self.”

Pen crossed her arms and gave me her best probing stare. The one she normally used on the teenagers she counseled at the school. I was used to interrogating hardened perps who lied as easily as they breathed, but Penelope Griffin had her own methods for applying the screws to stubborn teens—and recalcitrant best friends.

I could feel my temper unraveling. If I didn’t end this soon, I would attack her and say things I didn’t mean but wouldn’t be able to take back. “Fine,” I gritted out through clenched teeth.

I pushed past her, but she grabbed my arm.

All pretense disappeared from her expression. “What are you hiding?”

Cold fear swam under my skin. She had the look in her eyes. Pen wasn’t an Adept, but sometimes she had scary intuition. Maybe it was a skill she’d honed after years of studying human nature, or maybe the ability to read people was what had led her to psychology in the first place. Regardless, that look told me she wouldn’t let me out of that room until I came clean.

I looked her directly in her eyes. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” She laughed in my face. “You think I don’t see it?”

My gaze strayed toward the door. “See what?”

“The drinking, for one.”

Frowning, I looked at her. “Please. It’s not that bad.”

She pursed her lips. “Denial, defensiveness. Something’s been eating you for weeks.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but she slashed a hand through the air. “And don’t blame it on the moons again. This started before that. After Danny’s accident.”

“Gee, Pen, maybe I’m still dealing with the fact he almost died. Ever think of that?”

“Try that misdirection bullshit on someone who’ll fall for it, Kate.”

I closed my eyes. I’d been soaking in my secret for weeks. Marinating in guilt until my fingertips were pruney. That was the problem with lies. The only cure for the guilt that came with them was to tell the truth. But the consequences of coming clean were usually worse than the guilt, which is why you lied to begin with.

I’d planned to keep lying to Pen when she walked into the room. But when I opened my eyes and saw the determined tilt of her chin and the hardness of her eyes, I knew that lying to her face would cause more destruction than coming clean.

She was inviting me to jump off the cliff, and I was too exhausted to keep clinging to the edge. “I cooked.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I cooked, Pen.”

Her mouth worked open and closed for a moment. “Wh—when? Why?”

“When Danny was in his coma. With Volos.” My heart should have been pounding and my palms swampy, but they weren’t. I was too numb.

“But—You mean you let Volos cook, right? He said he could cook the antipotion. You were just going to pick it up. Not cook.”

I shook my head. “When I met him at the old brewery, he admitted he couldn’t finish the potion. He—” I cleared my throat because it suddenly felt clogged. “Without knowing who cooked the recipe for Gray Wolf, he couldn’t finish it. So, I—I read it. And then after Bane hexed John with Gray Wolf, I had to do the final processes to finish the antipotion alone.”

The sounds of music and laughter from the living room crept under the door to fill the silent space growing between us. Pen’s normally dark complexion was pale, and her eyes were showing too much white.

The silence shouldn’t have gotten to me. I’d used it as a tactic against criminals for years—too long to fall for it myself. But Pen’s silence wasn’t some sort of interrogation tactic. I’d shocked her, and now that the words had left my mouth I wanted to snatch them back and push them back down into the dark place inside me.

I swallowed and crossed my arms. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Her numbed expression hardened. “What do you want me to say, Kate?” She sounded soul-tired.

I blinked. All these weeks of hiding this secret, I’d played out what would happen when I was discovered over and over. Fired from the force, shunned by friends and family—the works. But never in all that time had I imagined what would happen if I came clean, much less what I’d want to hear.

While I grappled with that, Pen rubbed at her eyebrows. “Christ. Why couldn’t you have told me this yesterday? Or a month ago?”

That brought me up short. It wasn’t the complaint so much as the lack of something in her voice. “Why don’t you sound more surprised?”

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the door. “Because the instant you told me, everything made sense. Plus, for real, Katie, this job’s been a kick in the ass all the way. It was only a matter of time until you had to use magic.”

I blinked. “This isn’t about the job.”

She arched a black brow. “No?”

“I did it to save Danny.”

“Who was in a coma because of that fucking case.”

Pain punched me in the chest. It was one thing to see the disappointment in her face, but something else to hear damning words come from the one person I’d hoped would understand. “Screw you.”

“You have a lot of fucking nerve being mad at me,” she said, her voice rising. She pointed a finger toward the shut door. “There are thirty people out there ready to celebrate your abstinence from magic and you choose now to tell me you’ve been lying to us for weeks?”

Confusion kept me silent for a few moments. I had expected anger, sure, but I had not expected to be bitched at about my timing.

“Why the hell do you think I told you I didn’t want a party?”

She threw up her hands. “Well, that’s just fucking fantastic.” Pushing away from the door, she began pacing at the foot of my bed. I crossed my arms and watched her, cursing myself all the while for not bringing a bottle of hooch into the room with me. When she finished her debate with herself, she stopped and speared me with an ultimatum-glare. “You’re going to have to play along.”

My mouth fell open. “What? You can’t seriously expect me to go through with this.”

She tapped her foot. “You’d prefer to go tell everyone out there what you just told me?”

Cold fear sucked the blood from my face. Tell Danny and Baba? Or worse: Gardner and Morales? “Hell no.”

“Then you’re going to march your skinny white ass out there, take the fucking medal, and then never tell anyone what you did.” She took a menacing step forward. “And then you and I are going to have a nice long chat about your life choices.”

I frowned. “Wha—”

“Ever since you joined that team you’ve been different.”

“No I haven’t.” My gaze went south, unable to stand the knowing look in her eyes.

“The drinking, the lies, using magic—how much of yourself are you going to surrender for this job?”

I took a deep breath and tried to keep my tone reasonable. “I told you, I did magic to save Danny. It had nothing to do with the team.” Which wasn’t the complete truth. Eventually Bane might have admitted my uncle had been behind the Gray Wolf case, but I probably wouldn’t have believed him without seeing the truth in the magic, so to speak.

“Denial,” Pen singsonged.

“Don’t pull that AA bullshit with me, Pen. You would have done the same to save Danny’s life.”

She nodded reluctantly. “Maybe. But don’t you see? It’s not just that you cooked. It’s that you cooked and then lied about it. That’s not healthy behavior, Kate. I’m telling you, this task force assignment is bad news.”

I sucked air into my lungs and let out a shaky breath. “I just have to be more careful going forward. Volos got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Katie.” She put her hands on my shoulders. “But it’s only a matter of time until you’re required to use magic on a case. What will you do then?”

I felt like she’d slapped me. My head shook back and forth in denial. “I had the chance to read a potion yesterday and I didn’t do it,” I argued. “I have it under control.”

That was what I said on the outside, but on the inside a small voice told me she was right. Eventually I’d have to choose, but not that night. That night, I had to focus on putting on a convincing act in front of everyone I loved and respected so they wouldn’t know I was a liar.

Pen blew out a big breath, as if surrendering this particular battle in order to win a different one. “We can discuss your choices later, but for now you need to go play like you’re clean.”

The implication that one slip-up had suddenly rendered me dirty in her eyes filled me with shame. “Are you sure I can’t just sneak out the back door?”

“Take a deep breath, put on your game face, and go do the damned thing,” she said.

I couldn’t believe my best friend was encouraging me to go along with this farce. Receiving a ten-year sobriety token was a huge deal. When she’d received hers, we celebrated into the morning hours with most of the people in my living room. I remembered being so proud of her that night. The exact opposite of how she felt about me right then. Hell, it was the exact opposite of how I felt about myself. “I don’t feel right—”

“It’s too late for that,” she said. “If you refuse the anniversary token, everyone will want to know why. Normally, the group would support you through a relapse, but if your team finds out what you did, you’re toast.” She pulled herself up straighter, as if she was trying to convince herself as well as me. “There’s no choice but to play along.”

With that, she must have decided the discussion was done, because she was already opening the door and pushing me out into the lion’s den.

The sounds of music and laughter from the living room made my steps falter. Pausing by the kitchen table, I saw Gardner and Mez chatting with Rufus and Sarah by the fireplace. Sarah was one of the girls who’d recently joined the recovery program. The first time she’d come to a meeting, her face bore the mottled red sores of a long-term dirty magic user. She’d been too pale and her hands had tremored. But now her skin was clear, and when she reached out to shake Morales’s hand as he approached, her grip was steady. She even smiled, though it was the unsteady expression of one unfamiliar with happiness.

In the last ten years I’d met dozens of former freakers like Sarah. Junkies who’d decided to change their fates and get clean. The zeal of conversion fueled them those first few months. But eventually, once their minds cleared and they started working deeper through their steps, the problems morphed from the physical challenges of detox to the emotional ones of putting your life back together without the help of potions. Let’s face it, most people don’t start using potions because they’re well adjusted. Magic helps people create a sort of artificial wall between them and their demons. And once that wall comes crumbling down, the demons emerge bigger and more pissed than ever.

I didn’t know what Sarah’s particular demons were. Didn’t much matter, really. Everyone’s got some and everyone’s got to figure out how to battle them on their own. Problem was, lots of times those in recovery discovered that battling demons was a lot harder than hiding behind that wall.

“Kate!” Rufus called above the party noise. He waved me over, his demeanor one of someone about to make a grand gesture. “Everyone, your attention please!”

I pressed my lips together to hold in the curse stabbing at my teeth. When I reached him, he pulled me into the center of the room. Everyone circled up.

Directly in front of me, Danny fell in with Pen on one side and Sarah on the other. Pen wouldn’t look at me, preferring to stare at the floor.

“We’ve gathered tonight to celebrate a milestone for our good friend Kate.” He glanced at me with a paternal smile. “Ten years ago, when Pen dragged her to group, I have to admit I had my doubts.”

A titter of amusement trickled through the crowd. My gaze strayed toward Pen. She still wouldn’t look at me.

It had been six months after I’d left the coven. I was so poor it was getting harder and harder not to think about how much easier life could be if I sold a couple of harmless potions to help ends meet. I’d mentioned this to Pen one day, and that night she’d dragged me to meet Ru and the gang.

“But Kate quickly proved she was committed to working the steps. And before long she was encouraging other lost souls to keep the faith.”

That first night Rufus had spoken about his own experiences with recovery. How he’d had a promising career as a baller and pissed it all away for the quick fix of a speed potion. Even getting kicked off the Babylon Enchanters team hadn’t convinced him to get sober. The thing that finally did him in was his girlfriend finding his stash one night when he’d crashed after a weeklong bender. By that time he’d been on the junk so long that he was shooting up a seriously concentrated dose.

He’d found her dead on their bathroom floor with his syringe sticking from her arm.

“It’s hard to believe it’s already been ten years,” Rufus continued. “Despite my initial doubts, I have to say I’ve seen few people dedicate themselves so totally to leading a clean life. I’m sure we’ve all heard Kate’s lectures on the dangers of everything from potion-fueled cars to crops grown using drought-resistance potions.”

More laughter. I forced a smile because it was expected. But inside, I was picturing my dead mother’s body, blue and bloated from the potion I’d cooked.

That first night I’d heard Rufus speak, I knew I’d met someone who understood the pain I’d lived with since the day my mother died. The acidic guilt eating at your stomach lining until you prayed it’d just consume you whole. He made me feel hope that someone could fuck up and experience heart-crushing loss and still go on to have a good life.

Rufus grabbed my hand and squeezed it. When I looked up, he winked at me. My stomach dipped. I was a grade A asshole for playing along with this farce.

But Rufus was always saying that rituals and symbols mattered. Joining a program like Arcane Anonymous provided structure and support for the battles. Rituals provided focus. And the symbols of recovery could be potent talismans against temptation.

Despite my misgivings about my dishonesty, I knew that stopping the ritual would have consequences beyond exposing me for a liar. The truth was, the tradition of earning anniversary tokens wasn’t just about celebrating the accomplishment of one person staying clean. It was also about giving everyone else faith that they, too, could stay sober. If I came clean and refused the token, I’d be depriving Sarah and the others of their hopes for a long recovery.

Rufus reached into his pocket and removed a small black box. I’d been to a few anniversary events and knew what was inside, but it wasn’t until that moment that it hit me I’d be receiving one. I glanced up, uncertain. Behind Ru, Baba had tears in her eyes, and Danny looked so proud it broke my heart.

Ru opened the box. The room’s lights sparked off a silver chain and pendant inside. He removed them and held them up for the assembly’s inspection. A few appreciative oohs and aahs filtered through the room. My eyes zeroed in on the pendant.

The ten-year token was triangular in shape with a Roman numeral X on one side and the chemical formula for salt—NACL—engraved on the other. Since salt was used to banish magic, the symbol was a reminder to stay clean. The triangle stood for the three pillars of sober living—making good choices, maintaining healthy relationships, and learning gratitude for the Mundane.

He motioned for me to turn around. As I did as instructed, I felt as if I was turning to face a firing squad without a ballistics vest. Clearly unaware of my sudden panic, the members of the team all had smiles, except Morales, who looked uncharacteristically solemn. A couple of neighbors Baba invited smiled politely but looked ill at ease to be witnessing such a private moment. Most of the rest of the faces belonged to members of the group. Darla, the former vanity-potion-addict homemaker, stood beside Jacob, a very large bald man with tattoos, who spent his days crafting delicate sculptures out of scrap metal. The only member I didn’t see was Callahan, who only attended the meetings because a judge ordered it after he exposed himself to a busful of schoolkids while freaking on a sex potion.

But it wasn’t until I’d turned completely around that I saw the last face I expected to see in my living room.

Our eyes didn’t just meet—they collided. The impact ricocheted through my midsection.

I knew instantly who’d invited the devil into my house. Danny’s admiration for John Volos was vocal and mind-numbingly repetitive. I’d stopped trying to mitigate the hero worship because it was a waste of breath. As far as Danny knew, his life had been saved by the Cauldron’s version of King Midas.

He wore a three-piece suit, but I wasn’t egotistical enough to believe he’d dressed up special for the occasion. He always looked like he’d stepped off the cover of Handsome Millionaires Quarterly.

On some level I was aware of Rufus speaking again. Felt his hands brush my neck as he put the necklace around it. His fingers fumbled with the clasp. The metal was cold on my skin. John’s eyes were hot.

“There,” Ru said in a triumphant tone. His hands rested on my shoulders. They urged me to turn around again. Not having to look at John anymore was a relief, but I could feel his gaze on my back like a visceral touch. “Let’s all give her a hand, folks!”

The next five minutes were a blur of applause, hand shaking, and hugs. Danny threw himself at me, like he used to when he was five and hugs weren’t yet embarrassing. “I’m proud of you, Katie.”

“I’m proud of you, too, kid,” I whispered, holding him tight. Deflecting the compliment was self-defense. If I let myself wallow in the guilt, I’d combust.

“Isn’t it cool John showed up? He said you wouldn’t want him here, but”—he pulled back—“you’re fine with it, right?”

My smile froze in place. “Sure.”

Pen cleared her throat beside us. “Congratulations.” Her tight smile looked more like a grimace. With all the expectant eyes around us, she reluctantly pulled me in for a tense hug. “We still need to talk,” she whispered.

I didn’t respond. Not because I couldn’t speak, but because I knew if I let myself give voice to the words gathering like bile at the back of my throat, I’d never be able to take them back.

Her grip tightened for a second before she pulled away, turning her back on me.

Danny watched her go with a confused expression. “What crawled up her butt?”

“It’s an emotional night.” I forced a casual shrug. “I think I need a little fresh air.”

“ ’Kay,” he said. “I need to go help Baba get the cake ready anyway.”

I nodded and smiled what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I get cake, too?”

His smile was so bright it hurt my eyes. “Of course! It’s your big night.” He gave me another impetuous hug and skipped off toward the kitchen.

I turned away with a boulder pressing on my chest. Moving across the room, I avoided looking in the direction where I’d last seen John. I smiled and waved at well-wishers but avoided getting trapped in any conversations. On my way out toward the back patio, I grabbed a bottle of wine. If I didn’t get outside, all the pressure building up behind my eyes would explode.