Her face was plain, without the heavy makeup and thick brows Violet often saw on girls too young to be covering up all their skin. That fact alone—that the young woman braved the day bold and bare faced—softened the sting of knowing Trudy’s box had slipped into her pocket yesterday. Unnoticed, the girl likely thought, but Violet saw everything.

A moment later, Violet had a line of customers at the register, and with one eye on the door to make sure the girl didn’t leave again with something else she hadn’t paid for, she rang up the customers, answered questions, and directed one hungry man to the Sugar Shack down the street for a plate of their famous fried-fish sandwich.

When the last customer had been taken care of, she was surprised to see the girl standing at Trudy’s table behind the front counter. Judging by the irritation on her sister’s face and the quick, forceful ways her hands were moving, her materials were still not cooperating. Finally Trudy exhaled and dropped the pieces of wood onto the table. Defeated, she swiped at her forehead with the back of her wrist and sat back in her chair.

When the girl reached out a hand, Violet opened her mouth to caution Trudy to—what? Guard her materials? As if the girl would steal right out from under Trudy. But then again, maybe she would.

But the girl didn’t take anything. She lifted the pieces of wood Trudy had been struggling with and laid them next to each other on the table. Then she chose a small smooth stone from the top shelf of Trudy’s tackle box and set it against the stones. A smile flickered on the girl’s face as Trudy’s eyes grew wide. She handed Trudy the wood and stone, and Trudy held it all up to the sculpture she’d been battling all day. The pieces fit perfectly.

Trudy tilted her head as she stared at the girl, then pulled out her notebook, scribbled a few words down, and handed it over. The girl read it and let out a small laugh. “I’m not an artist. I just sometimes know where things belong.”

Trudy wrote something else, and the girl responded. If she wondered why Trudy wasn’t speaking, she didn’t let on. Their uneven conversation continued a few moments while Violet busied herself and tried to look like she wasn’t paying attention. Trudy showed the girl her various materials and tools, and as the girl’s hands moved over the bits and baubles, her shoulders dropped and the crease in her forehead smoothed out. By the time she checked her watch and said she had to go, the table was littered with small pieces of paper, the girl’s spoken words mingled with them, and Trudy’s sculpture now resembled a pair of wings, ethereal despite the rough materials.

Violet stopped her before she made it to the door. “I’m glad you came back.” She cocked an eyebrow and the girl winced, likely fearing Violet’s next words. It would serve her right, considering, and Violet was about to say just that, but at the last minute, even as she opened her mouth to speak, her words changed. “My sister had been working on that piece for most of the day, and it was giving her fits.” Violet nudged her red-framed glasses up on her nose. “The two of you seemed to work well together.”