Sarah Beth twisted the hem of her plaid skirt as she sat on the worn wooden bench outside Pastor Dee’s office. She couldn’t think of a single thing she could possibly be in trouble for, but there were many kinds of trouble in life—something she’d been learning all about this past year.

Are you already at the office, baby girl? her mom asked in her mind.

She smiled.

Communicating this way with her mom had been frustratingly random for years, but recently it had become a regular thing. She didn’t know if it was because her own abilities were growing or her mom was just becoming more receptive to the idea, but she liked that the last few weeks they’d been sharing thoughts several times a day. She knew part of it was Mom’s jealousy that Uncle Jed talked to her that way, a jealousy she didn’t really understand but tried to be respectful of.

And she knew that Jed wasn’t really her uncle. She’d pieced together Jed’s old relationship with her mom and fractured friendship with her dad—gleaning more details than any of them realized. She wasn’t six years old anymore, and she also had the benefit of her gifts, which she’d fully taken advantage of. She knew that her dad had once been Jed’s best friend, but that had ended long ago and Jed was still angry at Dad, though the reason remained elusive.

She also knew that Jed had once been in love with Mom.

And maybe he was still in love with her, a little.

It was emotionally complicated.

Like everything in life . . .

Yep, just sitting here waiting to see what I’m in trouble for, she answered, hoping she sounded like she was joking in her mom’s head.

You’re not in trouble, silly girl, came the reply, quick and honest.

Then does this have anything to do with the “no going outside” rule the headmaster announced last night?

Not directly, but we can talk more about that later. We’re here.

The double shadow of her parents appeared in the frosted glass panel of the admin office door. As the door swung open, she popped to her feet and ran to wrap them both in a hug. She breathed them in—her mom’s hair, the smell of her dad’s skin, the “home” smell of their clothes. Then she let go, wiping away an embarrassed tear with the back of her hand.

“Hey, are you okay?” Dad asked, real concern in his voice and face.

“Yeah,” she said, screwing a smile onto her face. “I always realize how much I miss you as soon as I see you, and I’m, um, really sorry the school called you in for whatever this is.”