"I'm not going back in time to do this all over again," Troy's mom said. "I've moved on. We're fine."

"But you never told me," Drew said. "He deserves to know the truth, Tessa. I can't imagine what he must think."

"He thinks what he thinks," Troy's mom said.

"You need to tell him," Drew said.

Troy felt dizzy. "Mom?"

"He knew," she said, raising her voice and stabbing her finger at Drew. "Maybe I didn't throw myself at his feet and beg him to stay, but he knew."

"In law school they teach you to ask if innocence is possible," Drew said.

"I'm not a lawyer," she said.

"I am," he said, winking quickly at Troy again. "It's called presumption of innocence. It's what separates us from Attila the Hun. Think about it. Isn't it possible-given what I was going through at the time-that I didn't put two and two together?"

"You were a math major," she said. "Adding two and two was something you shouldn't have missed."

"Maybe I shouldn't have," Drew said, nodding. "Okay, I agree; but I'm asking you if it's possible that I did. Isn't it? Couldn't me not being around for Troy all this time be a big mistake?"

Troy looked at his mom. Her lower lip disappeared beneath her top teeth as she studied Drew Edinger.

"Tessa, if you tell me no," Drew said, pointing down the stone path toward the driveway and the Porsche convertible in which he'd pulled up, "then I'll walk away, go back to Chicago, and neither of you will ever see me again."

Troy held his breath.

CHAPTER THREE

TROY'S MOM'S GLARE FADED. She hung her head and quietly said, "You were always clever, Drew. I bet you're some lawyer."

"That means you agree," Troy's father said, pushing back the flaps of his leather blazer so he could plant his hands on the waist of his jeans.