I grab my purse, and we head back outside into the night air. Aunt Franny and Evie are huddled near the Pink Panther with two large pieces of luggage. “Can we come with you?” my mom’s sister asks. “I can’t spend another night with our mother, and my car’s in storage.”

Mom holds out her arms to Franny and hugs her, and I reach for Evie’s hand. I don’t have to say anything, and she doesn’t either. We’re all good. She squeezes my fingers, and like magic, everything is healed between us, all the tension from her breakup with Adrian is erased.

Family is funny that way.

“Pile in, ladies,” Mom says. “Don’t know where we’ll go …”

“I do,” Aunt Franny says. “Marblecliff.”

“Marblecliff ?” the rest of us say in chorus. That’s an old-school posh resort in the historic part of town. Suites for wealthy tourists who think the yacht club is too gauche.

“Jeez, Franny,” Mom says. “Talk about a town scandal if we show up there.”

Evie snorts. “Who cares anymore. We’re already the town hags. Cursed, remember?”

“After what I’ve been through, if there’s one thing my late husband would want, it’s for me to have a hot shower and a feather bed right now,” Aunt Franny says, voice quivering. “I’ve slept on dirt floors, I’ve climbed literal mountains, and I’ve had to tolerate my mother’s never-ending petty demands for the last six months. So tonight, I will spend my savings how I see fit, and none of you will argue with me. We’re going to Marblecliff.”

Mom looks half surprised, half impressed. “You heard her, ladies. Let’s hit the road.”

We’re barely able to fit in the cramped car, but we somehow manage. And as Mom pulls onto the bumpy setts—the only vehicle on the quiet night road—none of us look toward the Nook, but I can feel Grandma watching us from the window. And it makes me … sad. How’s that for irony? I think I should hate her right now, but I don’t, and I can’t figure out why.

Before the Pink Panther can pick up speed, someone shouts at us from the sidewalk. Not from the Nook, but from the other side. For the first time, I realize that the boatyard’s office lights are still on, and I catch movement on the sidewalk, running toward us.

“Stop the car!” I shout at my mom.

“What?” she says in panic, slamming on the brakes. “Why?”

I roll down my window as Lucky races up to the Pink Panther, breathless.