CHAPTER 1

Truth

Gia

FEELING MY CELL PHONE in the front pocket of my apron vibrate once again, I pull it out. When I see it’s the same number that has called me at least five times in the last two hours, unease fills my stomach. No one ever calls me, so something must have happened. Looking toward the front of the small classroom, I wait until Maya’s eyes meet mine and as soon as I get her attention, I point toward the door, letting her know I’m going to step outside for a minute. After she lifts her chin, I squat down so that I’m eye level with the five kids gathered around me in a semicircle. “I’ll be right back, guys. Just keep painting, and if you need anything, ask Miss Maya,” I say quietly so I don’t disturb the rest of the students.

“Okay, Miss Gia,” Ben, one of my favorites, agrees.

Patting the top of his strawberry blond head, I stand then head toward the door. Leaning back against the wall once I’m in the hall, I press send on the number that has been calling me and wait for someone to answer.

“Hello,” the voice of an unfamiliar woman greets me after the third ring.

“Hi, this is Gia Caro. Someone from this number has been calling me.”

“Oh, thank God. Ned, it worked. You found her,” she says, sounding relieved, and I hear her moving around then hear her tell someone on her end that she will be right back. “Hi, Gia. My name’s Nina. Me and my husband live next door to your Grandma.”

“Grandma?” I whisper as nausea turns my stomach and pain blooms in my chest. “My grandma’s dead.”

“Pardon, darlin’?”

Clearing my throat, I hold my phone a little tighter. “My grandma passed away over ten years ago.”

“Oh dear,” she murmurs, and I hear her moving around some more. “Is your grandma Mrs. Genevria Ricci?”

“Yes.”

“Oh dear,” I listen to her pull in a breath. “Your grandma is very much alive,” she tells me after a moment, and my back slides down the wall and my ass hits the floor as my feet inch out from under me.

“I…” A thousand questions lodge themselves in my throat.

“Gia, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” I finally get out.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, darlin’, but your grandma’s not doing so well.”

Her words are like acid burning my already sensitive flesh, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to scream at the top of my lungs. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s not been herself for a while now. She was diagnosed with dementia a few years ago, but over the last year, she’s been forgetful and sometimes unaware, like she doesn’t know what’s going on around her. Ned—Ned’s my husband—he and I believe she needs someone to take care of her full-time.”

“I’ll be there,” I say without thinking. “It will take me a couple days to get things sorted out here, but I will be there. Can you keep an eye on her a little longer?”

“Of course we can.” She pauses, then her voice is softer as she continues, “She’s missed you.”

Guilt and regret wash over me, but I push that aside for now. I’ll have plenty of time to deal with those emotions later. Right now, I need to focus on what I need to do. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”

“All right, dear,” she agrees quietly before I hang up and clutch the phone to my chest.

Leaning my head back against the wall, I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose so I don’t cry.

“Gia.” Opening my eyes, I tip my head down and find Maya with her head sticking out of a crack in the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I push up off the ground and walk back into the class in a daze.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asks, following me.

“Yeah,” I lie. “Do you mind keeping an eye on my kids for a few minutes while I go talk to Jana?”

“Sure.” She bites the inside of her cheek, studying me with worry in her eyes.

I like Maya; she’s only been here for a few weeks, but the kids already adore her, which to me says everything about the kind of person she is. Kids can read people. They can usually tell what type of person someone is, even when that person is pretending to be someone they aren’t.

Giving her what I hope is a reassuring smile, I leave the class and head down the hall toward the office at the front of the building. Day Dreamers Daycare is one of the bigger daycares in Chicago. We have seven classes and a nursery, with over one hundred kids in all. I’ve worked here for the last five years, since the day I graduated from college with my degree in early childhood development. My plan was to teach in the public school system, but since starting here, I haven’t wanted to leave.

As I get closer to the office, the smell of lavender seeps into my senses. Jana, the owner, is always burning some kind of herbal scent to help her relax, think more clearly, or be more energized. She swears by the power of her infuser and has tried to convince me to get my own more than once, but I still have yet to buy into the hype. As soon as I turn the corner, I see her sitting at her desk with her eyes glued to her computer, her dark red hair up in a ponytail and her glasses pushed up on top of her head.

“Hey, you.” She turns in her chair, smiling at me after I knock on her open door to get her attention.

“Do you have a minute?” I ask, walking in and taking a seat across from her.

“If you’re going to tell me you’re quitting, you need to stand back up and leave.” She points toward the door laughing, and a fresh wave of tears fills my eyes. “Oh, God. Are you quitting?” she questions, sounding horrified.

“I need to leave town for a while, and I’m not sure how long I will be gone,” I admit regretfully, trying to wipe the tears that are now streaming down my cheeks.

“What happened? Is everything okay?” She stands, bringing a box of Kleenex around to where I’m sitting and taking a seat next to me.

Pulling a tissue from the box, I wipe my eyes then break down and tell her about the phone call I just received.

~**~

Sitting across from my stepmom later that evening, I wait for her to react. I wait for her to answer my question and admit she has been lying to me, that she kept me from the only living connection I have to my mom. Even though I know I’m waiting in vain, I still wait. I silently beg her to look me in the eye and be honest.

When my mom died and my dad married her, I tried to understand how he could spend twenty years of his life with my mom then move on so quickly after she passed away. I didn’t get it, but I loved my dad, so I supported him. I even tried to have a relationship with Colleen, because I knew it would make him happy. It never worked; she was never interested in getting to know me, and my dad was always oblivious to the lack of a bond between us, a bond that never developed even after my dad passed away when I was sixteen.

“Why did you tell me she died?” I repeat the question I asked as soon as we got seated at our table in the fancy restaurant she chose for us to meet at. Like always, she looks perfect. Her blonde hair is back in a tight bun, her makeup sophisticated, and her suit feminine but powerful. She’s nothing like my mom, who wore floral floor-length skirts with colorful tops, and so much silver jewelry that you could always hear her coming from a mile away. I never got how my dad could go from one end of the spectrum to the other, from someone who was full of energy and life to someone who always appeared as cold as a dead fish.

“She wasn’t right in the head,” she finally says, folding her napkin on her lap and picking up her glass of water, taking a sip and still avoiding looking at me.

“She’s my grandmother.”

“She wanted you to live with her.” Her eyes meet mine and I watch her lips press tightly together. “Imagine living with that woman.” Her lip curls up and I shake my head.

Her opinion doesn’t surprise me. She’s always been judgmental; she’s always thought she was better than everyone. My grandmother, just like my mom, was or maybe still is different than most women nowadays. Grandma grew her own vegetables, made jam when certain fruits were in season, sewed her own clothes, and knitted her own sweaters, and she started to teach me how to do all those things too after my mom passed away. I thought I would have her to lean on after my dad died when I was sixteen, but was told the news she had also passed away a week after my father’s funeral.

“You should be thanking me for saving you from that. What kind of life would that have been?”

“Thanking you?” I whisper in disbelief and disgust.

“I didn’t have to accept responsibility for you after your father passed away.”

“You’re right. You didn’t. But you also would have been out of a lot of money if you hadn’t. I read the will; I know part of the stipulations for you receiving money was you taking over custody of me,” I remind her, and her nostrils flare.

When she married my father, she had nothing. She may have dressed in fancy clothes, talked like she had traveled the world, and had expensive taste, but she didn’t come from money or have any when she married my father. She was his secretary, that’s how they met, and I don’t even really know if my dad was having an affair with her when my mother was still alive.

“Your father and I were married. What was his became mine.”

“That still doesn’t explain to me why you kept me from my grandmother, why you told me she was dead when she was very much alive.”

“Your father wouldn’t have wanted you living with that woman or in that town.”

“You don’t know that,” I respond quietly.

She sits up a little taller. “I do, and I did what I had to do in order to honor his wishes. I knew if she told you she wanted you to move to Tennessee after your dad died that you would have gone. You would have gone there, dropped out of school, and ended up pregnant, living in a trailer with five kids and a husband who stepped out on you every chance he got. I saved you from that life.”

“Are you insane?” I ask, wanting to reach across the table and wrap my hands around her slim throat.

“Your father told me all about that place. He told me how much he hated it.”

“He never hated it. He fell in love with my mom in that town.”

“And he wished he wouldn’t have,” she says like she’s telling me what color the sky is or where she bought her shoes.

The statement is casual, but the pain it leaves behind is devastating, because I know she’s telling the truth. I overheard my father say more than once after my mother’s death that he wished he hadn’t fallen in love with my mom. I thought it was because he didn’t think he could push past the pain of losing her after she was gone, but maybe it was something else. Maybe he never really loved her at all.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Gia,” she sighs, rubbing her forehead like talking to me is too much for her to handle.

“I’m leaving town in a couple days. My grandma needs me. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“You’re an adult now. You can do what you like. I can’t stop you.” She waves my statement away like it means nothing to her. Like I mean nothing to her.

It shouldn’t hurt but it still does.

“Right.” I push back from the table and stand. I don’t look at her as I walk away; I’m too focused on staying upright. My legs shake as I head through the crowded restaurant toward the door, but surprisingly I make it out to my car without falling to my knees in the parking lot. Once I’m in my Jeep and behind the wheel, I close my eyes and drop my head back to the headrest behind me. I wish my mom were here to give me advice and tell me everything is going to be okay, and I wish my dad were here so I could yell at him and tell him what an asshole he is for leaving me with that bitch.

“Pull it together, Gia. You’ve got shit to do,” I whisper to myself.

Opening my eyes I start up my car and head home. As I pull into the driveway at my house thirty minutes later, I smile when I see my best friend has already made it home. Shutting down the engine, I grab my bag then get out and slam the door, making sure to set the alarm so my Jeep doesn’t get jacked, which has happened in the past. I live in an okay neighborhood, but crime happens all the time around here, especially car thefts.

“Took you long enough to get here,” my best friend since childhood, Natasha, greets me, holding open the screen door to our place with one hand, while holding a glass of wine in the other. Looking at her, I know she’s been home for a while, since she’s already taken off her makeup, put her ash-blonde hair up in a bun, and switched out her work clothes for sweats and a baggy hoodie.

“I went and met up with Colleen,” I say, walking past her and taking the glass of wine from her hand as I go.

“Yeah, what did the fish have to say about all of this?” she asks, using the nickname she gave Colleen after she got her lips done when we were twelve.

“She said she saved me from having five kids and a husband that cheats on me.”

“Shut the fuck up. She did not,” she growls, going to the fridge and grabbing the bottle of wine.

“She did.” I plop down on the couch, taking a huge gulp from the glass in my hand before continuing. “She also told me that my dad wanted her to keep me from my grandma.”

“Why would he want that?” She frowns, picking up the remote and turning off the TV.

“I don’t know, but I believe her. He never really got along with grandma, and after my mom passed away, their relationship only got worse.”

Bringing the bottle of wine with her, she comes over to the couch and takes a seat next to me. She then takes the glass, fills it back up, and hands it back to me. “But to tell you that your grandma is dead…? That’s extreme, even for her.”

“I know,” I sigh, taking another gulp of wine, hoping the alcohol will kick in and the tension in my shoulders will ease.

“So you’re really going to Tennessee?”

Meeting her gaze, my eyes water. “Yeah, I’m really going.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know. However long I need to be there.” I shrug. “Nina says she has dementia, and I don’t know how bad she is or what I will need to do.”

“You just got a promotion,” she reminds me—news I got just a few weeks ago. Jana offered me my own class and a two dollar an hour raise, something I hadn’t been expecting. I was more excited about having my own class than the extra money. I had been working hard at proving I was capable of running my own classroom and looking forward to all the things I would do with my students. “Will Jana hold your spot?”

Coming out of my thoughts, I bite my lip and shake my head. “She told me I’ll have a job whenever I get back, but she can’t guarantee me my own class, since it wouldn’t be fair to whoever takes my position.”

“Dude, you’ve worked so hard.”

“I know, but it’s my grandma. We use to be close, really, really close, and she needs me. My mom would expect me to go, and I would hate myself if I didn’t.”

“That’s true,” she agrees, sounding sad, and I notice tears in her eyes that match the tears filling mine. “I’m just being selfish, because I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too, but I’ll be back.” I wipe away at the tears on my cheeks with the sleeve of my sweater.

“You better come back.”

“I will… well, unless I find some hot cowboy and fall in love,” I joke, and we both laugh, since we know that is never going to happen.

“If you find a hot cowboy, you better make sure he has a hot friend. We have a plan, remember?”

“How could I ever forget?” I ask, resting my head on her shoulder, remembering the deal we made when we were seven. That deal being we’ll find guys who are best friends, get engaged at the same time, married, buy houses next door to each other, and then get pregnant so our kids can grow up being best friends just like us.

“I can’t believe you’re going to Tennessee. Do they even drive there, or do they get around on horseback?”

“You’re an idiot.” I close my eyes, smiling, and then whisper, “I love you.”

“You too, always, and whenever you need me, I will be there.”

“Thank you,” I get out through the tightness in my throat. Natasha has been the one constant in my life since I can remember. She’s the one who sat with me at my mother’s funeral, holding my hand. Then later, when my dad was diagnosed with the tumor that took his life, she was always right there with me, going to the hospital and sitting next to his bed until he took his last breath. She’s my family, just like I’m hers.

“Enough of this sad crap. I say we finish off this bottle of wine then open the other one I have in the fridge.”

“Sounds good to me,” I agree as she gets up, going to the kitchen and grabbing another glass. Coming back to the couch a second later, she tops off my glass and fills hers up.

“Now, let’s cheers.” She holds her glass up and I do the same. “Here’s to finding out your grandma is alive, new adventures, and hopefully hot cowboys.”

Clinking my glass against hers, I laugh then take a sip of wine, hoping that when I finally make it to Tennessee, everything will be okay.

~**~

As I pull onto the highway that will lead me to Lookout Mountain and Ruby Falls, I take in my surroundings. It’s beautiful here with its sprawling farms set back off the highway, rolling hills covered in trees, and a beautiful lake I’m sure is full of life during the summer months. It’s the complete opposite of the city I’ve lived in my entire life. Everything is open and clean, and judging by the amount of people who have waved at me in my Jeep, it’s friendly here. As I reach the exit for Ruby Falls, I dial Nina’s number. I talked to her yesterday, and then again this morning after I left Chicago to tell her I was on my way and should be there by the afternoon, since the drive is only about ten hours. I could tell she was relieved I was actually keeping my word and coming. When I asked her about talking to my grandmother directly, she told me that she would try to get her on the phone, but it hasn’t happened, which worried me more than anything. I’m not worried like Natasha that I’m being catfished, but I am concerned about my grandmother’s state of mind. I know if she were thinking clearly that she would want to speak to me, especially after so many years.

“Gia,” Nina greets as soon as she answers.

“I just exited the highway. I shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Ned, she’s almost here,” she shouts, and the sound bounces through my car.

“Well tell her to get off her phone. Don’t she know it’s illegal to drive while on your cell phone?” he gripes, and I smile.

“I’m on my car’s Bluetooth,” I tell Nina, and then listen to her relay that message to her husband, who grumbles something about technology. Laughing, I stop at the red light and turn on my blinker. “My GPS says I’ll be there in less than ten minutes.”

“We’ll see you when you get here, darlin’. Just drive safe.”

“See you soon.” I hang up then turn left and drive through a tiny town with just a few small stores, a bank, and a bar. As soon as I make it to the street my grandmother’s house is on, my heart starts to beat hard. Even though I have never been here before, I’ve seen enough pictures of my mother’s childhood home to know exactly which one it is. Parking in the driveway, I shut down my car. The house is small, smaller than it seemed in pictures I saw when I was a little girl, and time has taken its toll on it. The yellow paint on the siding is peeling away, along with the white borders around each of the windows. The grass isn’t overgrown, but the flowerbeds are in need of weeding, and the trees surrounding the house need to be cut back, since they look like they are about to go through the roof.

Looking in the rearview mirror at my refection, I sigh. I’m a mess, but after driving all day, it’s not surprising. With nothing at hand to do anything about my appearance right now, I open the door and jump down, hearing what sounds like a screen door squeak. Slamming the door to my Jeep closed, my breath catches the second I see the woman standing on the front porch wearing a baggy, colorful knitted sweater and jeans. Her long salt-and-pepper hair is still thick and shiny, hanging down around her shoulders, and I instantly recognize the high cheekbones and beautiful copper-toned skin. She’s beautiful, and I have no doubt that if my mom were still alive, she would look just like her in a few years.

“Gabriella,” she whispers, studying me, and pain slices through me. Gabriella was my mom. I don’t think I look anything like the beauty who was my mother, but my dad used to tell me all the time that I did.

“Genevria, honey, that’s Gia,” an older woman, who I’m guessing is Nina, says, helping my grandmother down the steps with her hand wrapped around her sweater-covered elbow. “You remember her, don’t you?” she asks, and I can see it in my grandmother’s eyes that she is trying to remember but it’s not clicking. “Gia is Gabriella’s daughter—your granddaughter.”

“Gia,” Grandma says getting closer, and then a smile lights up her face. “Gia, you grew up.” She holds out her open arms toward me, and my heart clenches in my chest. Closing the distance between us, I wrap my arms around her frail body and bury my face in the crook of her neck.

“I missed you, Grandma,” I choke out as she rubs my back. Leaning back to look at her, I smile, tucking a piece of her long hair behind her ear. “You’re still beautiful,” I whisper, and her eyes fill with warmth.

“So are you. You look just like your mom,” she says thoughtfully before letting me go.

Turning to face the couple standing next to us, I stick out my hand. “Nina?” I prompt, and she laughs, pulling me in for a warm, welcoming hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she says before releasing me and jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “This is Ned.”

“Hi, Ned.” I smile, and he smiles back.

“Can you stay for lunch, or will your dad be expecting you home soon?” Grandma asks, and I frown then look at Nina, but she speaks before I can.

“Gia is going to be staying with you for a while, Genevria. Isn’t that nice?”

“Really?” Grandma asks, looking at me.

“Really.” I take her hand in mine. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.” She grins. “Come on inside.” She takes my hand and turns me back toward the house.

With her hand in mine, I help her up two steps then walk into the house behind her. The inside is in need of just as much repair as it is out. Even though it’s clean the walls need to be painted and the floors need to be replaced, and when we walk into the kitchen, my gut twists. There is food, pots, pans, and bowls all over the place. It looks like a child was left alone in the kitchen and they tried to cook.

“Genevria was making dinner when we came to tell her you were almost here,” Nina informs me, taking a bowl of something that looks like pancake batter to the sink. “Normally she eats with us, but today she decided she was going to make herself dinner.”

“Well, I have plenty I can cook for all of us now,” Grandma says, and I look around.

“How about we go out to eat instead?” I suggest, hoping she will say yes. The place is a mess, and no one will be cooking anything until it’s cleaned up.

“That’s a wonderful idea, isn’t it?” Nina asks Grandma, who looks like she’s about to protest.

“Well, I suppose so, but don’t throw any of this food out. We can have it tomorrow,” she tells us, moving around the kitchen, picking up the things she left out, and taking them to the fridge. She places everything inside, including the pans and things that were made in them.

“She’s gotten worse,” Ned voices softly from beside me, and I tip my head back to look up at him. “At first, it was her just forgetting small things here and there, but she’s steadily gotten worse over the last couple of years. Her doctor diagnosed her with dementia, but she didn’t want to believe it.”

“She knows?”

“She does. I don’t think she understands what it means, but she knows. We had been coping with it, but a week ago, she wandered off when Nina took her to the grocery store. We couldn’t find her anywhere. The whole town had to be called in to help with the search. An officer finally found her down by the lake. When they asked her where she was, she couldn’t remember. She couldn’t even give him her address.”

“Oh, God.” I cover my mouth with my hand, watching my grandma looking a little lost as she follows Nina around the kitchen. “I’m so sorry. I wish I had known earlier. ”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad I was able to track you down. Your grandma told Nina years ago about your dad dying and her losing touch with you, but I hoped if I could find you that you’d want some kind of say in what happens next.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He pats my shoulder. “Your grandmother is like family to us, to most of the folks in the town. They have all been worried about her and her future, so knowing you were coming has filled a lot of them with relief.”

“Gia, darlin’, have you ever had ribs?” Nina asks, and I pull my eyes off my grandma, who is now sitting at the kitchen table, writing on a piece of paper, to look at her.

“Yeah, a few times.”

“Real southern ribs?” she asks, and I shake my head. This is the first time I have ever been to Tennessee. When I was younger, Grandma would always come to Chicago to visit us. “Well you are in for a treat, because the Purple Daisy Picnic Café has the best ribs in Tennessee, and that’s where we’re going for dinner.” She smiles at me. “I just need to run over to my house and freshen up. While I’m doing that, Ned and you can go on and empty your car. I saw you brought quite a bit of stuff.”

“That works for me,” I agree, and she smiles.

“Genevria, I’m going to go home for a few minutes, okay?” she says to Grandma, who looks up at her and nods. “I’ll be back.” She glances at me and Ned then leaves out the sliding door in the kitchen that leads to what looks like a screened in sun porch.

“She’s bossy, but you’ll get used to it,” Ned promises, and I look at him and smile then go about helping him empty my car, which doesn’t take us long. By the time we are done getting my stuff into the house and stacked up against the wall in the living room, Nina is back and changed into a simple pair of jeans and a sweater.

“I had a few of the ladies from my book club help me clean out Genevria’s storage room yesterday and pack it all up in the garage,” Nina says, pulling one of my bags with her down a short hallway, and I follow along behind her, trying to take everything in. “There’s only a bed in there now, but I have a dresser Ned will bring over later on, and Monty a friend of mine said she has some curtains she’d bring over and hang for you today.”

“Thank you,” I say to her back as she pushes open the door to the room at the end of the hall.

Stepping into the room with her, I look around. The room is tiny, with one double window over the full-sized bed pushed up against the wall with a familiar looking quilt on it. There isn’t really room for a dresser, but there also isn’t a closet, so I’m going to need somewhere to store my clothes since my suitcases will just take up more room.

“Your grandma’s room is right next to this one, and there is only one bathroom in the house, which is across the hall.”

“That’s okay. Back home in Chicago, I have a roommate, so I’m used to sharing,” I tell her, and her eyes soften.

“I’m glad you’re here, and I want you to know Ned and I aren’t going to be jumping ship just because Genevria has you now. We will help out however we can.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate that,” I say softly, and she looks like she is going to say something else, but instead she looks away, clearing her throat.

“Are you two ready to go?” Ned asks, and I give him a nod then follow him back down the hallway and into the living room, where Grandma is sitting on the couch, putting on a pair of beige shoes with Velcro instead of laces. “I’ll drive. I’m sure the last thing you want to do after driving all day is to get behind the wheel.”

“That works for me,” I agree, helping Grandma stand before I grab my purse from the coffee table. Leading her outside and across the grass following behind Ned, I help her into the back seat of his truck then go around and get in on the other side behind Nina, who on the way tells me all about the town and some of the people who live here. Thankfully the drive isn’t a long one, but when we get to the restaurant, it’s packed, and I mean packed. The parking lot is full of cars, trucks, and motorcycles. It looks like everyone in town came here to have dinner tonight.

“What on earth is going on?” Nina asks as Ned pulls into the lot and parks on the grass next to a large tree.

“It looks like someone is having a party,” he says as I look out the window at the stone-colored building with a purple sign on the roof, and daisies painted on it.

Hearing someone shout, my attention is drawn to a group of men standing in front of a row of motorcycles—or actually to one guy standing in profile amongst that group. Taller than all of them by at least a few inches, his dark hair is a mess of waves on top and cut low on the side. A plaid shirt is firmly fitted over his broad shoulders that taper down to a slim waist, worn blue jeans, and boots. Even in profile, he’s handsome.

“I’m hungry,” Grandma says, and I reluctantly pull my attention away from the guy to look at her. “I think the wait will be too long here,” she continues, and I reach over and take her hand in mine when I see it start to shake.

“Is there a second best place to get ribs in town?” I ask toward the front of the cab, and Nina turns in her seat to look at the two of us.

“Sure there is. We’ll come back here another time. Is that okay with you, Genevria?” she asks grandma, who nods. “Good.” Nina smiles as Ned puts the truck in reverse to back out of the spot he parked in. Turning back toward the window as we drive out of the lot, disappointment fills me when I see the guy who caught my attention earlier has vanished.