I was nervous about my formal interview with Eleanor, which was weird because I usually felt really comfortable around her and nothing was ever awkward. But for the formal interview, I knew that I might drudge up some uncomfortable memories for her that she'd probably rather stay buried.

I knew that she didn't have an easy childhood, but I didn't know all of the details and frankly, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. I sat stiff on the corner of her couch with my notepad in hand. We had a normal conversation for at least forty-five minutes before I could find the resolve to finally grab the pencil and suggest that we start with the questions.

"Do you know how your parents met?" I asked her my first question.

"She worked at the hotel he would stay at in Virginia when he was there for work," she took a sip of her coffee and then placed it on the wooden coffee table in front of her. She didn't look tense at all as she recanted the story, talking as if she was describing the plot of a movie or something. "They'd meet up once a month, and did so for two years before I came along."

"Why do you think he kept coming around after she got pregnant?" I scribbled notes down on the notepad.

"I have no idea. I've thought about it a lot over the years, but I just don't know," she admitted with a small shrug. "Maybe he really did love her, or he just liked sleeping with her that much. Or he could tell that she was struggling mentally and might do something stupid if he left that could jeopardize his reputation."

"What do you remember about him from those eight years that he kept coming around?"

"I remember that he'd bring me gifts," she said to me, scrunching her eyes shut as if trying to remember something. "Mostly dolls, even though I hated playing with dolls. That's just what he thought little girls would like. He didn't do it for me though, he did it for her. Neither one of them ever really did anything for me. She conceived me to keep him, he brought me dolls to make her happy. It was all for each other."

"Do you know the name of the mental hospital your mom went to after she had Casey?" I asked her curiously.

She looked at me curiously and then said, "I have it here somewhere. Why?"

"Just a hunch I want to follow," I said vaguely, not wanting to give her false ideas if my hunch never panned out into anything. "And after your mom was hospitalized, Silas never tried to contact you again?"

She shook her head and said, "Nope. I found this in a box of my mom's things I kept in storage, thought maybe it could help. She was truly obsessed with the man, kept very detailed logs of where he was around the country at all times, printed out articles written about him, kept it all collected in this binder like a stalkerish scrapbook."

She slid a thick forest green binder toward me on on the couch that had been resting on the side table. I started to curiously flip through it, scanning the pages. This woman was so detailed that she knew what hotels he would stay at in each city he traveled to.

"Wow," I exhaled in shock. I had a lot of work to do, going through the binder, fact checking, and investigating each location for possible affairs.

"I don't really want her mentioned in the article, if possible," Eleanor added, running her fingers through her long brown hair. "She was in a really bad spot with her mental health and she's gotten a lot better in the last decade or so. I don't really have that much contact with her, but she's got a stable job, she's a step mom now. She's really not the same person she was back then and I wouldn't want her to get villainized for something she did thirty years ago."

"I'm planning on keeping everything as confidential as possible, you don't have to worry," I assured her. "I think I'll have a rough draft ready next week with just some of the evidence I already have so you'll get a good idea on how things are going to be portrayed."

"Thank you," she said with a grateful smile.

I was about to continue the questions when we heard the front door opening. She told me that Micah took Auden to his parents house for the day, so we weren't expecting any other visitors. When I turned toward the foyer, my throat went dry when I saw Casey entering the living room.

"I thought you weren't coming," Eleanor told him.

He glanced at me and then looked at his sister and said, "I changed my mind. I know you guys are going over things that happened before I was born, but I think I have stuff I can add. Sorry I'm late though, I was having lunch with Bec and her mom."

I gripped my pencil tighter in my hand as he took his seat beside Eleanor and then gave me a shrug, as if to say 'this is article-related, so you can't be mad' and I quickly looked away.

"I was just about to ask about gifts given to your mother. Money, jewelry, anything like that?" I said as I looked down at the notepad instead of up at the siblings across from me.

"I remember that she always wore a ruby necklace, but I don't know if he gave it to her or not," Eleanor answered me. "I'm not really sure."

"Do you think she'd be willing to sit down for an interview?" I asked.

Eleanor hesitated for a moment before saying, "Honestly, I don't think so. But I'll ask."

"You should just give Josie her number and let her ask," Casey interjected. "It's not worth having to talk to her."

"I talk to her every once in a while, Case, it's not that big of a deal," she responded quickly.

He rolled his eyes, clearly disagreeing with Eleanor's ability to forgive their mother, and I kept my mouth shut until they both settled down and then said, "I'm more than happy to reach out on my own. Whatever you're comfortable with."

The interview lasted a while, as I had a lot of questions and Casey slowed the process down a lot by interjecting with not-so-helpful additions to Eleanor's responses. Eventually though, I finished my last question and took a deep breath.

Eleanor exhaled loudly as well and then said, "I think we need a drink after that." She stood from the couch and started making her way into the kitchen. "How was your date yesterday, Josie?"

I glanced over at Casey, who was already looking at me, and then down at my sneakers. "It didn't work out."

"This was the dog guy, right?" she wondered. "That's such a bummer, I liked him. From what you said, anyway. What happened?"

"Well, we sat down at the table, ordered a huge plate of tacos to share, and then he immediately ditched when I told him I have a cat. It was apparently a major deal breaker for him."

"How did you meet this guy?" Casey asked me as Eleanor returned to the living room with three beers in hand.

I didn't really want to answer that question, because there was something embarrassing about admitting to using online dating, like there was something wrong with me that I couldn't meet people organically. But I had to remind myself that it didn't matter what Casey thought of me, so I finally just said it. "Tinder. And as far as weird Tinder dates go, this was actually pretty tame."

"Really?" he sounded surprised, but not judgmental. I found myself feeling unreasonably relieved. "You have Tinder?"

"Why is that so surprising?"

"You just... I don't know. Doesn't seem like something you'd do." I didn't know what he meant by that, and I didn't want to ask.

"Maybe not in high school." Which was true for a multitude of reasons. The first being that no high schooler has any business being on Tinder. The second being that I only wanted to date one person back then, and he wasn't interested. "Adult Josie is a whole new world."

"What happened with Wes?" he asked, his head cocked to the side as he flicked open his can of beer and took a sip.

I gave him a curious look, surprised that he knew my ex-boyfriend's name. "How do you know who Wes is?"

"We met at Ellie's wedding," he answered me easily, as if that made all the sense in the world. But Eleanor's wedding was four years ago and I barely spoke to Casey. Every time I heard his voice, it felt like getting stabbed all over, so I hid from him as much as I could. "You seemed good together."

"He cheated on me," I said with a long sigh.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Josie." His brow furrowed in something that looked like concern as he leaned back into the couch to take in the news as if it was happening to him personally. "How long were you together?"

"A year."

"He was a jerk anyway," Eleanor interjected.

"Yeah, he kind of was," I agreed, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Was showing up here today Casey's way of getting closer to me? Because he could pretend like he was here for the article and then weasel his way into some small talk? "I'm not really dating that much right now, trying to focus on my career and all that."

"That's good. You shouldn't let yourself get distracted by boys at your age," Eleanor told me after taking a big drink of her beer.

That made Casey laugh and then say, "Ellie, you were with Micah two years when you were our age."

"I'm not saying ignore it if it hits you, but you don't have to chase after it," she said with a shrug. "I wasn't looking for Micah, you weren't looking for Rebecca. That's when it really hits you, when you never see it coming."

"Yeah, maybe," I sighed, not really feeling like I wanted to have this conversation in front of Casey.

"Were you okay?" Casey asked me randomly, awkwardly wringing his hands together on his lap. "When you found out that he cheated on you, were you okay?"

"I mean, it sucked," I said, because I wasn't really sure how else to answer that question. "But yeah, I got through it. My friends rallied behind me and they helped, so yeah, I guess I was okay."

"I'm going to call Micah, see if he can pick up dinner on his way home," Eleanor announced, springing off of the couch to go into another room.

When she was gone, Casey returned his gaze to me and said, "I just wish I was there for you when it happened. I could have punched him or something."

"I did punch him," I said with a short laugh and I realized why he asked me if I was okay, because he felt guilty that he wasn't there to personally make sure that I was. I don't want to find it so endearing that he cared, but I did. "So it's fine."

"Did you really?"

"Well, I slapped him, but he still cried, so it counts."

"That's amazing," he laughed. "And not at all surprising. You've always been really good at not taking anybody's shit."

I tried to make it seem like I didn't need him at all, but I'd be lying if I said that the only person I wanted to talk to when Wes and I broke up wasn't Casey. Natalie and my other college friends were great throughout the heartbreak and really helped me get over it, but I only wanted him. I could tell that he needed to hear that I was fine without him though, and I needed him to think that.

"I think it would have been funny to see you punch somebody though," I admitted with a short laugh of my own.

"Hey, I bet I could have really hurt him," he defended himself. "I started working out in college as a way to relieve stress."

Obviously, I thought to myself. His arms were strong and buff and not in a way that late stage puberty growth spurt could sculpt them. I never pictured Casey as somebody who goes to the gym and it was just another reminder that this wasn't the same Casey I grew up with. Adult Casey was a different person. One that went to the gym and got engaged.

"Are you staying for dinner?" he asked me when I didn't respond to him.

"No, I have to get home soon," I answered quickly. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't feel a sense of comfort when I sat on that couch talking to Casey about our lives, and that he wasn't growing on me. My barriers weren't as strong as I wanted them to be and I knew that it was only a matter of time before they were gone completely.

"You sure?" he pressed, his eyes wide and hopeful like a child begging their parents for a new toy.

I wanted to sink into this feeling. To feel comforted by Casey, to talk to him about everything like I used to. I wanted to let it engulf me and I could feel safe there, knowing that he had my back through everything. Having Casey as my best friend was the most amazing feeling in the world and I did want that back. I didn't want to be the reason that he looked like he was almost in pain, pleading me with his eyes to stay.

"I can't, Casey," I said with the last of my crumbling barrier bricks cracking under the weight of that look on his face.

"Okay, I understand," he said, but his face made me think that he didn't understand at all. "There's a banquet this weekend where I'm getting an award and it' s kind of a big deal. I know you're probably going to say no, and I get it, but it would mean a lot to me if you could come."

I couldn't help but let out an exhausted laugh and then said, "You're really not making this easy."

"You know how stubborn I can be, Josie."

I couldn't say no. I opened my mouth to say the word, but it wouldn't come out of my mouth. So instead, I decided on, "I'll think about it."

I watched his entire body relax and I knew he took that as a yes.

"Is this a formal event?"

"It's black tie," he said with a grimace and again, I laughed thinking that maybe I would have to go just to see how uncomfortable Casey would get sitting in a fancy suit all night. I knew that showing up at that banquet would be the end of me and I'd be opening myself up to potentially get hurt by him again. But when he looked at me like that, like he'd die at my feet if I didn't let him in, it was hard for me not to think that the risk was worth it.