“Well, Peter called me last Tuesday and told me the delivery was very hard on you and that the two of you agreed Austin needed a peaceful place to be,” Joanie explained.

“Did Peter tell you, more or less to your face, that I had given my full consent to this arrangement, Joanie?” I asked, my voice breaking with held-back grief.

There was a long, heavy pause on the other end, then the soft rustle of paper before she answered quietly.

“Yes, Claire, he told me you were completely on board with the plan but you were just too worn out to handle long phone calls right now,” Joanie admitted.

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling fresh tears trace through the dried salt on my cheeks as I leaned back against the headboard.