They were eighteen. High school was almost over. College letters were stacked on the kitchen counter, and everything in our house seemed to be changing at once.
Before they left, I fixed a loose strand of Elise’s hair and made them promise to stay together.
Jonah smiled and assured me they would.
Elise sighed the way teenagers do when they think their mothers worry for sport.
“Can you trust me for one night, Mom?”
I wish I’d answered differently.
Instead, I reminded her not to spend the evening with Ronan Hale.
The smile disappeared from her face.
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