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anxiety and anger. They were all okay.
    Maybe she would ground Maiya for only half of her life.

Chapter 11

    River smelled the soup the moment Teal opened the door. Cindy Yoshida’s broccoli-chicken-black-bean concoction was a special-event dish.
    The woman got that right. Coming home had never felt as special as it did right then.
    He followed his wife through the garage door into the house she had welcomed him to share with her when they married. Leaving his bachelor apartment for the warmth of her place had been a no-brainer.
    When they first dated, she was in the middle of renovations to the bungalow. Originally the garage had been detached. Teal had it attached by adding a mudroom and family room between it and the kitchen.
    He shuffled along behind her, past the washer and dryer and into the family room, a catchall nook for newspapers, books, backpacks, mail, and sweatshirts. It was furnished with a love seat, a couch, and a coffee table. The television was on but muted. River turned from its video of a collapsed overpass lit by garish lights.
    A breakfast bar separated the room from the kitchen now filled with the Yoshidas and two of the Prices, a happy, noisy group. Maiya emerged and was immediately lost in Teal’s embrace.
    His family was safe. His family was safe. Thank You, God. Thank You.
    He fought back more tears. He did not cry easily. He had a high tolerance for physical pain. Evidently the events of the day had undone him. He sat gingerly on the couch and wiped his shirtsleeve across his face.
    His family was safe.
    How he loved his girls. He watched them hug, long and hard, rocking back and forth, and was content to wait his turn.
    Years ago, Maiya had taken him by surprise. They met when she was a gangly sixth grader with buckteeth who—like her mother—had an impish nose and tilted her head in a cute way, her black hair swinging to one side. She smiled as if she were looking right into his heart, trying to find a spot for herself.
    He had one for her. She became the delight of his life. He wished he had known her as a toddler. Now as tall as Teal’s five-six, she had outgrown the gawky stage and was finished with the teeth-straightening braces. With adolescence came a budding prettiness and the ability to trip her mother’s trigger. River wondered if it was a female thing since he never found himself in her sights.
    If he didn’t hug her soon, he might start bawling.
    From the kitchen, the neighbors smiled at him. Maiya’s best friend, Amber, looked terrified. Her mother, Shauna, caught his eye and mouthed, You okay?
    He nodded.
    And then Maiya plopped beside him on the sofa and flung her arms around his neck.
    â€œOof.”
    â€œRiv! Oops, sorry. Oh, Riv! Where does it hurt? Are you all right?”
    He winced but held her as tightly as he could. Her long hair was damp and smelled of her shampoo. “I’m fine,” he murmured. “So what did you guess, Minnie McMouse?” It was his special nickname for her, a play on the initials for Maiya Marie Morgan and a reference to their first family outing to Disneyland. “Six point eight when it happened?”
    She sat back and stared at him, tears spilling from pretty eyes an unusual shade of dark green. “Mom didn’t tell you?”
    He sighed to himself. His hunch had been right, then. Teal had been sidestepping talk about Maiya.
    His wife was an expert at the ins and outs of truth telling. She would not lie to people, but she chose exactly how much information to reveal and when. It bugged him at times, especially when he was the recipient. She argued it was for his own good, and often in hindsight he could see that it was.
    If Teal had withheld something about Maiya, it was because she believed he did not need to hear it right now. She probably thought he was ready to keel over and should go to bed. Tomorrow was soon enough to hear difficult news.
    Obviously Maiya could not wait to spill her