“Blame jet lag,” Todd said. “It turns the best of us into savages. And, Flora, can I say you were the epitome of patience and understanding so don’t blame yourself.”

“Yes,” Clare said. “You were kind to her.”

For a fleeting moment she felt like part of the group. Accepted. She could have stayed like that, stayed silent, enjoying the moment, but Izzy’s outburst had unlocked something inside her.

She stepped away from the protective circle of Jack’s arm, feeling a little sick and a little shaky.

“Go after her, Jack. She needs you. Listen to her. Let her talk.”

“No. I agree with Clare. What she needs most right now is space. I’ve learned that it’s important not to overreact. Feelings come and go. Sometimes it’s best just to wait until they wash away.” He must have seen something in her face because he frowned. “If she’s not back in an hour, I’ll go and look for her.”

An hour could feel like a lifetime when you were alone and miserable.

She was going to have to go herself, even though she was probably the last person in the world Izzy would talk to.

She put her plate down and then noticed Aiden heaping a plate with food. Either he had an extraordinary appetite, or he was intending to share it with someone. She was the only one who had noticed what he was doing. Everyone else was still dissecting Izzy’s behavior.

Teenager.

Under a great deal of stress.

Completely understandable.

Hideous year.

So many memories in this place.

Aiden saw her watching him and froze. They stared at each other for a moment, and then she turned back to the group and drew the conversation and attention toward herself.

Over Clare’s shoulder she saw Aiden slip away from the group, following the same path Izzy had taken.

Flora relaxed a little, relieved that someone was going after Izzy. It was going to be dark soon. She just hoped he’d be able to help. Maybe it would be easier for Izzy to talk to someone her own age.

They’d moved on to dessert by the time Clare noticed he was missing.

“Where’s Aiden?”

Todd glanced around. “He was here a moment ago.”

“These strawberries are delicious,” Flora said. “The sweetest I’ve tasted.”

“I grow them—” Clare launched into a detailed account of how she netted the berries to keep away the birds, how they’d ended up with a glut the previous year and she now had jars and jars of jam.