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“Yes, he was. And then he mentioned Josiah.”

“Of course he did.”

“Now, don't be cross with your father. He's only concerned about you.”

“Is he?”

“I'm concerned about you, too. A man was murdered at the festival, and you were there. That's the important thing. But I would be lying if I said I wasn't interested in the fact that Josiah made sure you got home safely.”

I took a long drink of coffee, which had gone lukewarm while my parents conducted their interrogation. “He was doing his job, Mom. He was making sure people got home safely after a murder investigation began.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And did you have a chance to talk?”

I nearly choked on my coffee. “About the murder?”

“About anything, darling.”

“Mom.”

“I'm only asking.”

Dad, clearly enjoying himself, added, “He did drive all the way to Max's house. That's a fair distance to go just to drop someone off.”

“Dad, you're not helping.”

“I think I'm being remarkably supportive.”

“Of whom?”

“Everyone.”

Mom ignored him. “Did he stay long?”

“He took my statement.”

“And after that?”

I looked at the ceiling, silently appealing to whatever benevolent force might be responsible for adult children surviving their parents. “We talked about some things from the past.”

“Oh.”

The single syllable contained more emotion than any of the speeches she'd given me about my love life over the past decade. I bit my lower lip, trying to decide whether I could somehow steer this conversation back toward the murder, the campground, or literally anything else.

“Mom, I'm not discussing this with you over the phone.”

“Of course not. You needn't tell me anything you don't want to. I only hope you'll consider what I've said before, about giving him a chance to explain himself.”

“He has explained himself.”

“And?”

“And I don't know what happens next.”

That quieted her for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was gentler. “That's alright, baby. You don't have to decide everything at once. Just look after yourself, and don't let anyone rush you into something you're not ready for.”

I hadn't expected that, and for a moment I didn't know what to say. My shoulders relaxed a little, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Then Dad ruined it.

“Still, it's encouraging that he's driving you home.”