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seconds, then finally walked away. “I’ll show you the rest of it.”
    She followed him to the kitchen. Good size for such a small house. “Bumped out the original kitchen a few years ago and added this breakfast nook.” Another built-in, this one a wraparound bench edging a table along a row of windows facing the pastures behind the house.
    “Who did this work for you?” She admired the butcher block–topped island that stood at the center of the room.
    He frowned. “I did it.”
    “All of it?”
    “I’m not going to hire someone else to do this stuff.” He made it sound like the most outrageous idea he’d ever heard. How he and Christopher had ever been friends, she would never understand. They couldn’t be more different.
    It had been a long time since the first night she’d met Trevor. He’d been so kind then   —but quiet and humble. A stark contrast to Christopher, who, even in high school, was larger than life. She’d been enamored with his ability to command a room   —a talent she didn’t possess or understand.
    Back then, it was Whit she related to best, but it was Christopher who’d won her heart. He exuded self-confidence and security and everything she craved. Until today, their life had been nearly perfect.
    “There are just two bedrooms upstairs,” Whit said, pulling her from the past and back into her horrifying present. The realization that this wasn’t a bad dream struck her all over again and turned her stomach over with a flop.
    Whit continued. “Take the big one. There’s a bathroom attached to it.”
    She nodded as though taking instruction from a teacher.
    He stood awkwardly at the center of the kitchen, looking almost too big for the space. Knowing Whit, he wanted to be there about as much as she wanted him to be, and he had no idea how to escape.
    Finally he said, “I’ll run up to my place and grab you some food.”
    “I’m not hungry.”
    He looked away, an almost-wounded expression in his eyes.
    Evelyn hadn’t expected that. He needed something to do and she was making it hard for him. Why?
    “Maybe just some coffee.” The reality of her situation hung heavy on her mind. There was no waking up from this nightmare. She was horrified to realize tears had filled her eyes.
    He stared at her, an awkward, uncomfortable look on his face, and she begged her emotions to stay tucked out of sight until Trevor had gone, but the tears didn’t ask her permission. They came hard, fast, and without warning. She turned away. How embarrassing. Never mind that this wasn’t the first time Trevor Whitney had seen her cry because of something Christopher had done.
    She felt his hand on her shoulder. He turned her around and pulled her into the kind of hug that didn’t promise to make everything better. After all, the last thing she needed was another empty promise.
    He held her while she cried bitter, angry, humiliated tears, anxious to talk to her husband and praying there was some sort of explanation for all of this.
    But deep down, she had the most terrible, scary feeling that none of it could be explained. At least not in a way that would ever make sense to her. And the faint knowledge that this might be the case was enough to keep her confined to that very spot for far too many minutes, her shame and sorrow colliding right there in Trevor Whitney’s kitchen.

CHAPTER
4

    T REVOR MIGHT’VE SLAMMED the back door when he returned to the farmhouse. He might’ve banged a cupboard or two gathering food for Evelyn. It was possible he almost broke a pickle jar rummaging around in the refrigerator looking for coffee creamer.
    “Trevor?”
    And he knew his aunt was about to call him out on it.
    “I don’t want to hear it, Lil.”
    “Where is she?”
    “Don’t worry about it.”
    “I can help. The police don’t scare me   —what they did barging into her house like that was wrong.” Lilian leaned against the doorjamb, eyes fixed on him. His mom’s youngest sister had become