“That’s Hannah,” Rob said as I took the picture from him. “She just turned fifteen.”

I looked down at Hannah, the girl who was responsible for bringing Rob back to me.

But not, of course, because that’s where he wanted to be. I knew the score. He was only back because ofher .

And because, according to him, he and I are stillfriends .

“Rob,” I said. I think at that moment I kind of hated him. “I told you. There’s nothing I can do for her. For you. I’m sorry.”

“Right.” Rob nodded. “You said that. Look, Jess. I don’t know what you went through during the—” He caught himself before he could say theW word and changed it to “—year before last. When you were…overseas. I can’t even pretend to be able to imagine what it was like for you over there. From what Doug says, when you got back—”

I glanced up at him sharply. I was going to kill Douglas. I really was. What had gone on in our house after I’d gotten back—night terrors, the doctors had called them—wasmy business. No one else’s. Douglas had no right to go around talking about them. Do I discuss Douglas’s mental state with his exes? Well, no, because he has no exes. He’s still going steady with a neighbor girl, Tasha Thompkins, whom he’s been seeing for almost three years now, while she’s taking classes at Indiana University and traveling back and forth every weekend to see him.

But if Douglashad had an ex, I wouldn’t have discussed his private anguish with her. No way.

Rob must have noticed the angry flush I’m sure was suffusing my face, since he said in a gentle voice, covering my hand that held his sister’s picture, “Hey. Don’t blame Doug. I asked, okay? When you came back, you were so…you were—” He nodded at the small cactus sitting on the windowsill, amid more chili-pepper lights. “You were like that plant. Covered in prickles. You wouldn’t let anybody get anywhere near you—”