In the truck on the way home, he asked her straight out.
"Sky. When I'm not home. What do you eat?"
She was looking out the window at the strip malls along Forest Drive. "Food."
"What food?"
She shrugged.
"Does Celeste make you dinner?"
"Sometimes."
"What about when she doesn't?"
Silence. A long one. They passed the bagel place, the dry cleaner, the church with the sign out front that said something about God and air conditioning. He did not push. He knew from long experience on bridges with frightened captains that sometimes the most useful thing you could do was say nothing and keep your hands steady on the rail.
"She says you know," Skyler said finally, to the window. "She says she told you and you agreed. About the lock and everything. She says it was your idea too."