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“That sounds about right,” I say, and bend to hold the dustpan as Mom pushes glass into it. In my pocket, my phone buzzes with a text from Bristal.

Everything okay over there at Domestic Terrorism Lane?

“I can’t tell you how awkward it was taking a girl home and having to explain to her mother why she has a black eye, a gash in her leg, and smells like fire,” Mom says.

“How’d that go?” I ask, standing up. I get a good whiff of myself and realize that I’ll probably never get the smell of smoke out of my hair, either.

“She didn’t even blink,” Mom says, shaking her head. “She just asked Bristal what color she wants her stitches to be this time. Then she dug up a sewing kit, and I got out of there.”

We’re fine, I answer Bristal’s text. But how fucked was that?

Fucked like the only girl bunny in the garden

“What’s so funny?” Mom asks as she dumps the last dustpan full of glass.

“Bristal,” I say, waving my phone at her. “Or, you know, it could just be that it’s two in the morning and I’m in shock.”

“No, she’s funny,” Mom says, sliding into a chair at the dinner table and resting her chin in her palms. “You shouldn’t have been so hard on her about the lighthearted approach she took with her episode.”

“Mom,” I say sternly. “That’s not up for discussion, whether Bristal took a punch for our family or not. This is my future we’re talking about, and I can’t have it turned into slapstick.”

“Have you seen where she lives?” Mom asks.

“Bristal? No, I mean . . . I know it’s in Ash Park,” I admit.

“Uh-huh,” Mom says. “And I just drove back from there. Her sense of humor might just be Bristal Jamison’s only coping mechanism, so maybe take that into consideration.”

“That and vaping,” I mutter as another text from Bristal comes in.

Was that directed at us, or at your dad? Is this about Abe Lytle or Denise Halverson?

I don’t know the answer to that, so I take a second before answering, turning my attention back to Mom when she clears her throat. “What?” I ask.

“I know a lot has gone on tonight,” she says. “But did you ever actually apologize to Bristal?”

“For?” I ask, glancing down at my phone when it buzzes again. I scroll past the twenty or so texts from MacKenzie. After I’d assured her that I was fine and there was no reason to come over and bring snacks, she’d dropped into a long, rambling stream of texts that I’d stopped reading an hour ago.

My money is on Halverson. The more we learn about this, the worse it looks. 1) She took nothing with her, even though she was supposedly running away.

“For overreacting to her ODOT episode,” Mom says. “I take your point about wanting to be looked at as a serious journalist, but you can’t deny there was skill involved in what she produced.”

“Dick jokes, Mom,” I remind her. “She made dick jokes. That’s not skill.”

2) We can’t find any record of Denise being alive today

“There was some low-hanging fruit,” Mom admits. “But overall, that was a clever episode, and very entertaining.”

“Entertaining? Really?” I bristle. “If that’s all you’re looking for, you need to delete your CNN app and download TikTok.”

“Well, there’s a place in the world for both of those things, isn’t there?” Mom says, too brightly for having just had the front of her house blown in. “What’s wrong with incorporating different elements in your podcast?”

I consider explaining to Mom about marketing, how I need to brand On the Ground in Flyover Country—and myself—in a certain way, make it clear what this platform is and how it will be used. But then I remember that Mom has lived in Henley her whole life and been married to Dad for half of it. Dad had to live up to Grandpa’s idea about what being born a Chass means; Mom had to prove that she deserved to marry one—she knows exactly what marketing is. But while she might have a point about my freak-out, I’ve got a different bone to pick.

“While we’re on the topic of Jamisons and Dad isn’t around, care to say more about Dover?”

“What?” Mom looks up, eyes suddenly sharp and bright.

“He hung out with Denise, Mom,” I tell her, crossing my arms. “Erin told me. So I’m curious about him, and I feel like you’re leaving some things out.”