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Blame helped nobody. But Micah’s setbacks shamed her anyway. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t have called me. I don’t know why. . . .”

“Who knows why kids do anything? Will’s going to try the whole man-to-man approach.”

Will’s Jeep pulled up in front of Tori’s house, and Cora sucked in a breath. Man-to-man approach or not, she was still Micah’s mother, and she had to have her own approach.

She saw Micah glance at her through the glass of the passenger-side window. She wished she could read those long, stoic looks. Micah was her son, and she had raised him, along with Lilly, but pretty much by herself. Still, so often Cora looked at him and had no idea what he was thinking or feeling.

Dr. Grove assured her that was normal forallparents. Cora tried to believe it.

Micah slunk out of the Jeep, and Will got out as well, following Micah toward her and Tori.

“Hey, Mom,” Micah mumbled in greeting. Then he tried to walk past her into the house. She stopped him with a gentle hand to his shoulder.

He sighed heavily. “I just wasn’t feeling good, okay?”

“You didn’t call me,” she said in the most neutral voice she could manage.

He shrugged, jerking his shoulder out from under her hand. “I knew you had your meeting or whatever. I didn’t want to bug you. And you told me to call anybody at Mile High if I ever had an emergency.”

“What about your aunt?”

“Couldn’t get a hold of her,” Micah mumbled, but his gaze slid away, and she knew he was lying.

“Go inside. We’ll talk about this more in a minute.”

“There isn’t anything to talk about,” Micah insisted, his expression going quietly mutinous.

“Inside,” Cora said firmly without letting any of her simmering frustration show through.

Micah complained under his breath and stomped inside. Cora tried to smile at Will. “Thank you for bringing him home. I appreciate it.”

“You know it’s no problem. Look, the kid’s got something going on, and it isn’t not feeling well.”

“Do you have any idea what it is?”

“No. I tried to get it out of him, but . . .” Will shrugged apologetically. “I deal with tight-lipped, don’t-want-to-talk-about-it people on the regular.” He snuck a little glance at Tori, who glared at him. “Kid’s a rock.”

“Yes.” One Cora wanted to beat her head against. “Well, thanks, guys. I better go talk to him.”

“Good luck,” Tori offered with a smile.

“Thanks.”

“Wine if you need it later.”

On impulse, Cora pulled Tori into a hug. “Thank you.”

“You know I hate it when you hug me,” Tori said as she awkwardly patted Cora’s back.

“I know,” Cora replied, smiling as she pulled away. “That’s half the fun of it.” It bolstered her, this having friends who would step in and help, who’d offer wine and let her hug them even when they hated it.

She murmured her good-byes and stepped into the house. She already heard the beeps and irritating music of a video game. She stepped into the kitchen to gather her thoughts and roll her eyes. Hard.

Shehatedthe video games Micah lost himself in, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to take them away. There’d always been basketball to balance it out.

She marched over to where Micah was slumped into the couch, face so close to the screen of his handheld system she wanted to snap at him to pull it away. But she didn’t.

“Is it the other kids?”