Page 72 of The Better Sister

Nicky and I decided to drive Ethan straight to the city, despite the Friday traffic. It would be a while before he’d want to see the East Hampton house again.

He slept—or at least pretended to—until nearly one in the afternoon the next day. By then, I was already back from Bloomingdale’s with a mix of size-large T-shirts, hoodies, and track pants. He seemed to have filled out in the last six months.

“I thought you should have some fresh clothes.”

“You just wanted to shop,” he mumbled with a grin as I handed him the shopping bags.

Panda appeared from under the sofa, buzzed past him three times at lightning speed, and then circled back to brush gently against his ankles. The sound of his purrs filled the room.

“Greedy Boy!” Ethan cried out, dropping the shopping bags to pull him into his arms.

It had been Nicky’s idea to give the East Hampton housekeeper two days off in exchange for driving the cat to the city this morning.

In addition to sleeping, Ethan needed to eat. Nicky and I cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner the entire weekend, and were happy to see him snack in between. We binge-watched the entire season ofBoschthat he had missed while in custody. We did a jigsaw puzzle. We marveled as Panda followed Ethan everywhere he went, even the bathroom.

The one thing we did not do was talk about Adam. Or the verdict. Or the really important revelations that had come out during Ethan’s trial. Or Bill Braddock, his law firm, and the documents that were locked in the file drawer of the desk that the movers would be coming for on Wednesday.

Finally, on Tuesday morning, I knocked on the door of his room when I heard signs of movement inside and asked him if we could talk. He was in the same exact spot on his bed where he’d curled up while Adam screamed at him. Dropping onto the corner of his bed and folding one leg beneath me, I started by asking him what he wanted to do about school. His detention center had supposedly been educating him while he was in custody, but I had no idea whether that work would translate into graduating on schedule. “I’m pretty sure I could shame Headmistress Carter into giving you extra assignments to catch up with your class—”

“I’m not going back there.”

I nodded. It was the response I expected. He never did like Casden. I had forced it on him.

“Okay, we have time to figure it out.”

“I want to go to Harvest Collegiate.”

It was a public school on Fourteenth Street.

“Fine, I’ll call and make the arrangements.”

“Thanks.”

“Also, I’ve been seeing a grief counselor, about losing your dad. Her name’s Anna, but she knows some men who do the same kind of work, both in the city and Long Island. I thought maybe it would be helpful for you, too.”

He looked down at his hands. “You think I need a shrink.”

“Nope, not at all. But you’ve lost your primary parent to a horrible crime of violence, not to mention what you went through the last six months. I’d be a total chode”—he smiled at the use of the word—“if I didn’t make it an option for you to talk to someone about that.”

“I wasn’t going to use the gun, you know.”

“I know.” Did I know?

“I really was just trying to show off. Those kids are, like, I don’t know. They’re like adults. I just wanted to be different. It was stupid.”

“It’s okay, Ethan. It’s all behind us.”

“And I’m sorry about those posts on Poppit.”

The guilt in his eyes made my chest hurt. “Really, it’s all right. I know you were trying to give me a wake-up call.”

“I didn’t know you couldn’t leave—without leaving me, too, I mean. That’s why you put up with it, right? So you’d still be my mom?”

I reached out and patted his arm. “It’s complicated, Ethan, but everything’s all right now.”

“I took that stuff from the house, Mom—the Beats and the shoes and the speaker.”

“None of it matters now.” Don’t tell me, I thought. I don’t want to know.I was still trying to figure out what to do with the evidence Adam had gathered against Bill.

---