“Noah rode three miles through a hundred and six degrees of heat to save Lily,” I said.

Teresa smiled, a flat line across her face that didn’t move her cheekbones.

“He’s a dishonest child, Julian,” she said.

“And you’ve spent seven years teaching him to tell stories.”

“I saw the lock on the floor when I picked her up for lunch,” Beatrice murmured.

Teresa turned her head instantly and locked eyes with Beatrice.

“You saw an old piece of scrap metal left behind by a careless contractor,” Teresa said.

“Don’t confuse your memories, Beatrice.”