Saturday started with Jake downstairs on the phone, voice low, clipped-like he was finalizing a bomb. I heard him hang up just as Olga and I came down the stairs. He pocketed it fast, eyes flicking away. I caught his glance, smiled small, and looked past him. We both knew what was coming. Olga didn't.

In the car to work, she leaned forward, grinning. "Got a girlfriend, Jake? You've been sneaking calls like a teenager."

He laughed-real, easy. "Nah. I'm gay. Like men."

Olga blinked, her expression comically bewildered. Then she burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the confined space of the car. "Wait – seriously? All this time?...