Turner kept his voice low so Paris wouldn’t wake up. She’d fallen asleep after her big talk with Marla and was probably exhausted from the whole day’s ordeal. Marla sat across from him at the table and shook her head. She leaned her head into her hands in a gesture of sadness—and what Turner interpreted as complete disbelief. “I never knew this about her,” Marla said. Turner slid a few more tissues under her bent head. He watched Anton clear off the sandwich plates from the snack they’d had and step over into the kitchen. A few minutes later Anton poured himself a beer and came to sit with Turner and Marla. “I knew,” Anton said. “She’s scared out of her wits. Paris has always had terrible fears. It’s what’s kept her from having a committed relationship for all her adult life. I don’t know where they came from, but we all have skeletons in the closet, don’t we?” “Look. I know you came with good intentions, but I don’t know if there’s anything you can do.
