ALMA WAS ALREADY asleep. Adrien was texting his friends. The pines flashed past endlessly. We would have to drive for a long time before we stopped seeing them. I stared at them so I wouldn’t have to see anything else. It was difficult. Gradually, in the gaps between them, I glimpsed other images: Luce was searching the beach for her lost sarong; she found it in the tall grass, near Oscar’s damp, dirty body, which lay like a shipwreck victim washed ashore.

I sensed that my mother was still watching me in the rearview mirror. That same look. I met her eyes. Maybe that was when she knew the truth for sure. I opened my mouth. I thought she was going to tell me not to say anything, to guard the secret deep inside me, but she didn’t do anything; she just kept looking at me with her sad eyes. They were blue, her eyes. I’d never really noticed that before.

“Dad, I forgot something. Can we turn back?”

“Of course.”

“Ugh, what a pain!” Adrien moaned.

“It’s only six miles. We’ll be there before you know it!”