He pushed the storm door open and stared at me, then at Irene. “You’re Wade’s folks,” he said slowly. “From the pictures on the fridge.” I nodded. “And you are?” “Jesse. Kayla’s brother.” He didn’t move aside, but he didn’t look guilty, either. He looked exhausted. Behind him, the hallway smelled like coffee and baby powder, which made no sense at all.

“I’m paying rent here,” Jesse said quickly. “Six-fifty a month. Wade said you knew.” “We didn’t,” I told him. Jesse rubbed his face with both hands. “Then you don’t know the rest either.” Irene stepped closer. “What rest?” Jesse looked down at the suitcase, then back up at us. “Kayla had the baby Sunday night. Seven weeks early. They’re still at the hospital in Grand Island. Wade hasn’t come home since.”