Chase opened the sketch pad to find childish doodles. Sunshine. A dog. Several pages of trees with cheerful faces. A few with people, the women delineated by triangle dresses and long hair. One looked to be a family, with each child labeled. Olivia had been drawn bigger than the other girls, her hair a helmet of brown. The woman had a necklace on, and the man smiled the biggest, his eyes large and blue. Looked to be a happy family. Olivia would probably enjoy flipping through her sister’s memories.

The sound of Zeke’s truck rambling up the drive launched Chase into action, quickly making up the bed with the sheet so tight a drill sergeant would be impressed.

Chase stashed the sketchbook in her room, making a mental note to give it to Olivia later, swiped on her best lip gloss, and fluffed her hair. She’d pulled on a tighter long-sleeve shirt in a blue that made her eyes pop and leggings that had cute ties at the ankle. She jammed her feet into wedge booties and told herself she was not trying to look cute . . . though she knew she was.

Pushing out the door, she found Zeke trudging across the yard carrying a bag and two camping chairs strapped over his shoulder. Behind him, the sky had darkened to a navy, a galaxy of stars hanging above the deeper contrast of the mountain. The air smelled of an unknown crisp freshness that might have come from the trees or clean water or some other outdoorsy thing. All Chase knew was that she loved every sight, smell, and feel of what spread before her.

She turned and grabbed one of the throws off the tweed couch and then dropped it on the back of the couch as she tugged her puffy jacket on. Then she picked it up and went to snuggle under the stars beside a fire with a guy who made her feel like she was a normal girl.

Olivia was nowhere in sight. Her therapist had been spending a lot of time working on her book that was due. Olivia kept talking about deadline this and deadline that. But that worked for Chase because sometimes she needed a break from the constant analysis of her words, discernment of her motivations, and perusal of her expressions.

Huh. Maybe her vocabulary had improved, too.

“Hey,” she said, coming around the corner to Zeke raking around the firepit he’d dragged to an even patch of ground that was open to the skies. He’d set up the chairs. “Looks like you know what you’re doing.”