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Nursing a lukewarm tea in her hand, Hana heads out to the terrace. The sun is almost grazing the horizon, but it’s as stifling as it was a few hours before.

“Hey,” Caleb says. He’s on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water. Thick smears of sunscreen on his legs have seeped into the water: a thin, oily film settling on the surface. Beer bottles are scattered around him, another in his hand. He glances up at her, and his eyes are bloodshot, rimmed with red. “Sorry, I don’t know what else to do.”

“Understandable.” She puts her tea on the small table a few feet away, sits down. “You’re in shock. We all are.”

“There just seem to be so many questions still... why she came but didn’t tell me. I can’t wrap my head around it.” He takes a swig of beer. “This big surprise, I get it, but it wouldn’t have been for my benefit. I keep going through all the lies she must have told me to keep up the whole charade.”

Hana nods. “It’s normal to have questions when something like this happens. I did, with Liam, couldn’t stop. It gets better eventually.”

“Really?” Caleb meets her gaze. “It’s been more than a year since my dad died, and some days it’s as bad as it ever was.” As he leans back, his hand jolts the bottle. Amber liquid chugs onto the tiles, pocked with tiny bubbles.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Shrugging, he picks up the beer, puts it to his lips. “It was pretty shit, the whole thing. Unexpected. He was just starting to get his life together after a crappy few years, then gets the rug pulled from under him...” Caleb trails off and they both look up, hearing footsteps.

Seth’s in the doorway.

Post-swim, he’s changed. Preppier Seth: all white linen shirt and pressed blue shorts, his hair slicked back. “I’m going up to the restaurant. Want anything?”

“Not for me,” Caleb replies. “Hana?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

Seth hesitates, as if about to say something before nodding, heading back inside.

When he’s out of earshot, Caleb shakes his head. “He can’t even fake it, can he? All dressed up like nothing’s happened, still on his jolly.”

“I don’t know... people deal with things differently. Jo mentioned earlier that he finds it hard to open up.”

Caleb barks a short laugh. “When people say that I always think it’s just a convenient excuse to do what the hell you want. His type isn’t bothered by anything.”

“His type?” Hana probes, although she can predict what he’s about to say from the snippets he’s let slip since they’ve been here. His politics are clear.

“Spoiled, entitled, used to riding roughshod over everybody. Bea said as much, and she’s right.”

Bea said as much. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “Bea wasn’t exactly a fan, put it that way, but I don’t think she was surprised they’d found each other. She thought they were well suited, Seth and Jo.”

Hana hesitates, taken aback. “I’m not sure about that, I know Bea was worried when they first got together. The whole drugs thing.”

“That was before the argument. I think that’s when she finally saw Jo’s true colors.” Caleb paddles his feet in the water. The movement makes little circles ripple outward.

“The argument about Bea canceling?”

“No, before that.” Caleb raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

“No. When was this?”

“Only a few weeks ago. Jo came to ours and they got into a fight. A pretty nasty one, from the sound of it. Bea ended up walking out.” He shrugs. “I was convinced that’s why Bea canceled. Didn’t fancy round two. Part of me thought the U.S. trip was a neat way of getting out of it.”

“Bea never told you what the argument was about?”

“No, but I always got the sense that Jo was picking away at her, grinding her down argument by argument, for no particular reason other than that she was jealous.”

“Of Bea ?”

“Yes. Bea never voiced it, but I think that’s partly why she didn’t make more of an effort to keep in touch. She was busy, yes, but I think it was an excuse for her to not have to do it.”

“Do what?” Hana’s voice falters. She wonders if they’d also thought the same about her—that she was jealous—because she was. She, too, found herself jealous of Bea at times.

“Play herself down to make everyone else feel better. Protect their fragile egos. Other women in particular. She never felt like she could be herself in case it threatened people.”

He’s right , she thinks, flushing, reflecting on her own workplace, the whispered, snide takedowns of their female headmistress. Hana had often wondered if some women are hardwired to begrudge another’s success: an evolutionary mechanism to try to temper it or put it down, and failing that, ignore it. She’s been guilty of it too.

Caleb takes another pull of beer. “I think Bea was happier when she wasn’t with the family. I know it’s a shitty thing to say, but it’s true.”