They were sitting on the grass, their backs resting against the grill of the Range Rover staring out over the lush green pastures of the horse farm below. They hadn’t spoken since they got there. Hannah sat quietly next to Cody, their shoulders touching, offering her silent support.

“How did you know what to do?” he finally asked.

“My mom used to have panic attacks.”

“Why?”

“Is there a why?” Hannah asked.

Cody shrugged. “For me there is.”

Hannah searched his exquisite features, waiting for him to share more. But Cody clearly seemed tormented by the idea of saying more. To save him from suffering she began talking.

“I don’t know what it was for my mother. I always tried to be perfect so I wouldn’t trigger her attacks. But it didn’t matter if I was the perfect daughter. In the end she left us anyway. I was eight.”

Cody finally looked at Hannah. It felt like he was seeing her for the first time. His brown eyes glowed—the sunlight catching the tiny flecks of gold, making them dance like fireflies. There was so much sorrow on his beautiful face that Hannah barely recognized him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, taking her hand in his.

Hannah swallowed hard, staring at Cody’s hand and feeling his warmth and sincerity. “Thanks.”

“It’s not your fault she had panic attacks.”

Hannah smiled sadly and pulled her hand away. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. We do it to ourselves. No one causes it. It’s just our inability to sort out reality.”

“I heard my mother tell my father that we made her sick.” Hannah said quietly. She could feel Cody staring at her but she couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she looked down at the ground and tore up a long blade of grass, wrapping it around her finger. She gave a sad laugh. “She couldn’t stand the sight of us. And then she left us. What else am I supposed to take from that?”

Cody grabbed Hannah’s hands, stilling her fidgeting. “I don’t know. It was probably something between your parents, because I find it pretty hard to believe that someone couldn’t stand the sight of you.” He tucked a stray piece of hair behind Hannah’s ear, smiling kindly.

She tried to return his smile, but her heart hurt. Hannah never spoke about her mother. She tried not to think about her at all, because all it did was make her feel inadequate.

“Thank you,” Cody said softly.

“For what?”

Now it was his turn to look at the ground. “For helping me.”

Hannah hated the serious tone their conversation had taken. It felt too . . . real. Today had gotten off track and she needed to right it. “You’re welcome.” Hannah nudged Cody’s shoulder trying to lighten the mood. “So why this place?”

“It just makes everything better.”

“That’s all I get?”

“I came here after my parents got divorced.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Cody shrugged. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“But how’d you even find this place? It’s in the middle of nowhere.”

“I used to come here when I was a kid. My parents had horses at the stables and they would let me come out here with the hounds to placate my begging for a dog of my own.”

“Why couldn’t you have a dog?”

Cody sighed. “Too messy.”

“I can see that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, your house is kind of . . . sterile.”

“Sterile?”

“Yes. It looks like a museum. I’m actually surprised you’re allowed to live there. Your room is the only thing in the house that isn’t perfect and white.”

Cody burst into laughter. “Please . . . don’t hold back.”

“Sorry,” Hannah blushed.

“No. It’s honestly refreshing. I hate my house. It’s huge, but it’s always empty. Everything has to be kept just so, but for what? It’s just me and my dad. And he’s never there. It makes no sense.”

“The grass is always greener,” Hannah sighed.

“You just called my house a sterile museum.”

“Yes, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t live there. We can trade if you’d like. I have a dog, a cluttered house and my dad is always home.”

Cody laughed. “Careful, I might take you up on it.”

“So, it’s Friday. We blew off school . . . what do you want to do for the rest of the day?” Hannah asked.

“I don’t know. But going to my sterile house and being alone isn’t appealing.”

“Okay. How about we go to my house, play with Custard, and start my movie tutorial.”

“Custard?”

“My dog.”

“You named your dog Custard?”

“I was eight!”

Cody laughed and stood up, pulling Hannah with him. “It’s a date.”