Later that afternoon, Helena called. “Sophie told one friend why Emma wasn’t invited. It’s getting around.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I was thinking about canceling the party.”

I heard Sophie in the background: “Mom, no. You already made me lose Emma over this. Please don’t take the party too.”

Helena went quiet, then said, “I think I’ve made everything worse.”

“You have.”

“I know.”

“But you can stop making decisions for Sophie because you’re scared of Mark.”

Helena exhaled. “What if Emma doesn’t want to come?”

“Then Sophie needs to hear that from Emma.”

“You’re right.”

“I know.”

That evening, Emma came downstairs wearing the pale-pink dress. She held the scrapbook against her chest. “I’m still angry,” she said.

“You can be angry and still go.”

She nodded once. “That’s what I’m doing.”

At the party, Sophie came outside before we’d reached the doors. She looked at Emma and immediately started crying. “I’m sorry.”

Emma stayed where she was. “You let me think you hated me.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Sophie wiped her cheeks. “Because everything got ugly, and I didn’t know how to explain it without telling you things that weren’t mine to tell.”

Emma’s voice shook. “You could’ve told me it wasn’t me.”

“I should have.” Sophie looked down. “After my parents separated, Mom was scared all the time. Bills, the car, everything. Your dad helped us, and for a while… I stopped feeling like everything could fall apart.”

Emma’s face softened.

“He made me think I had someone in my corner,” Sophie added. “Then Mom stopped taking his advice, and suddenly the help disappeared too. I hated what he did. And I hated that I still felt grateful for what he’d done before.”

Emma’s eyes filled. “You should’ve told me.”

“I know.”

“No, Sophie, I mean really told me. I would’ve been mad. I would’ve cried. But I wouldn’t have blamed you for needing help.”

Sophie covered her mouth.

Emma stepped closer. “And I’m sorry too.”

Sophie blinked. “For what?”

“For almost deciding your mom used my dad. For making this about who owed who before I knew how scared you both were.”

Sophie shook her head. “You didn’t know.”

“I still thought it.”

For a second, neither of them spoke. Then Emma handed her the scrapbook. Sophie opened to the first page, where they were five years old and missing front teeth. “I missed you,” Sophie whispered.

“I missed you too.”

“Can we fix this?”

Emma looked at her. “Not tonight.”

Sophie’s face fell.

Emma took her hand. “Tonight we just start.”

They walked inside together.

Helena came out a minute later. “I’m sorry, Nina.”

“I know.”

“Are you going home?”

I looked toward my car. For seventeen years, I had mistaken keeping the peace for protecting my family. I wasn’t doing that anymore. “No,” I said.

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere I can think without anyone telling me what I should forgive.”

For once, I didn’t need Mark’s explanation, Helena’s guilt, or anybody else’s answer. I got into my car. Whatever happened next, I wouldn’t be afraid to ask the questions anymore.