“Fat?” Peggy peered through her glasses. “You’re skin and bone, and not surprising given the amount of energy you burn. Whoever said you were getting fat?”

“No one.” Zoe flushed scarlet. “Pancakes, then. And I won’t add much sugar. Sugar is on the banned list too, Nanna Peg, in case you didn’t know. So how did the date go? Do we know?”

Connie sifted flour into a bowl and added eggs and milk. Where had that fat comment come from? Maybe it was just an age thing. She was growing up and changing. “The date? We do not know, and we are not going to ask.”

“What your grandmother means is that she isn’t going to ask. But I intend to,” Peggy said, “but if in the meantime you find out anything, you’re to text me. Anything. Do you hear me?”

Zoe saluted. “I hear you, Nanna Peg, but she won’t tell me, you know she won’t. She tries to protect me from everything. Like last Saturday when Dad was supposed to take me to my drama class. I heard Mum pleading with him on the phone, but when she came to tell me she pretended he had car problems. I suppose she thought that was less hurtful than telling me the truth—that Avery had booked a table for both of them and he was going for a romantic dinner.”

“You heard that?” Connie was appalled, not only because Zoe had overheard but because Richard had been thoughtless enough to say it to Milly, who was already hurting. She’d felt angry toward him for a while, but now she wanted to kill him.

“Dad has a loud voice. Don’t worry. I get it. He’d rather hang out with Avery than a thirteen-year-old. It’s not exactly news. He made that clear when he moved out.” Zoe gave an awkward shrug and took a sip of juice. “I’m not that interesting.”

Was that what she was taking away from all this? That she wasn’t interesting?