"I mean doing what's best."
I stepped closer. "For whom?"
She glanced at the kids, then back at me. "One day, Rowan, you'll realize love doesn't make you capable."
"No," I said. "But neither does a pearl necklace."
She left without answering.
I thought that was the worst of it. Then Benji found the photo.
"I mean doing what's best."
***
It was almost midnight when he appeared in my doorway with dust in his curls and one sock missing.
"Buddy, it's late. What are you doing?"
"I was looking for the Christmas lights, Rowan."
"In April?"
His mouth trembled. "I missed Mom."
He held out an old photo. "I found this behind the ornament box."
"What are you doing?"
I took it.
Mom and Dad stood outside the courthouse. Dad had one arm around her, holding her up.
Behind them stood Aunt Denise and Uncle Warren.
Aunt Denise was smiling.
***
I turned the photo over.
Mom's handwriting nearly split me open.
"If anything happens to us, don't let Denise take the kids. Our eldest, Rowan, will know what to do.
Marianne."
"Don't let Denise take the kids."
***
"Did Mom know they were going to die?" Benji whispered.
"No," I said, but my voice shook. "No, buddy. But I think she knew whom not to trust."
The next morning, I took the photo to Mrs. Dalrymple.
She stared at it for so long that I thought she had not heard me.
Then she sat down.
"Oh, honey."
My stomach dropped. "You know this picture?"
"I know that day."
"She knew whom not to trust."
"What day?"
Her eyes filled. "The day your mama came home and said, 'If Denise ever gets near my babies, you call Rowan first.'"
I gripped the back of her kitchen chair. "She said my name?"
Mrs. Dalrymple reached for my hand. "She said you were the only one who loved them without wanting something back."
