For six years Ellard’s grief had funded the imprisonment of the daughter he was grieving, and the cruelty of that, once he understood it, was almost more than the rest: that the very love which should have saved Sidonie had been harnessed to keep her buried.

Chapter 3 — I’ll Have to Think About It

That afternoon, when Ellard dropped the boy off, Radley was waiting by the driveway.

“Ellard, I’m going to need double next month,” he said, leaning on his SUV, easy about it.

“Some medical and household bills hit all at once.”

Ellard did the arithmetic without meaning to.