Regan reads the message, then forces herself to read it again, more slowly. Her shoulders unclench, but she doesn't sit back down. She looks at the dog, then at the boy, then, once more, at his phone.

I'm sorry. She hesitates for what feels like a very long time, then takes a breath and keeps typing. I have a brother named Beau. He's gone too. I thought you somehow knew that and were messing with me.

Now that she's calmer, it feels silly to even think that. How could he possibly know anything about her or her family? But she'd seen the name on the screen and her brain had done whatever messed up math it needed to get to that point. She feels stupid, and the apology is clear on her face as she turns the phone around to show him.