Izzy’s chest felt tight. “She’s not going to be my stepmother.” But they’d voiced her deepest fear. That this relationship wasn’t casual. That it wasn’t going to go away, it was simply going to get worse.

She imagined sleepwalking to the bathroom one morning and bumping into Flora. Worse, Molly bumping into Flora. Izzy would have to talk to her about sex. The thought made her sweat.

“I guess it might be nice to have an adult around,” Avery said tentatively. “They could look after Molly and we’d see more of you. I mean, you’re always busy doing stuff in the house.”

“I don’t mind. I like it.”

She didn’t want anyone interfering around the house, and she didn’t want anyone else taking care of Molly. How could they? They wouldn’t know how to handle her the way Izzy did. Having a stranger around would simply add to Molly’s stress, and her little sister was already stressed enough. The night after Flora had come for dinner, Molly had taken ages to settle. When she’d eventually fallen asleep, she’d had the worst nightmare of her life. She’d woken up sobbing and it had taken Izzy over an hour to settle her down again. She’d almost fetched her dad, but she knew he had to be up early in the morning and although she’d never admit it to anyone, she liked the way it felt when Molly crawled into her bed. It gave her something to focus on other than herself. It kept her head in the moment, rather than allowing her brain free rein to explore the past and the future.

Her job was to keep everything as normal as possible in the home. To be indispensable. So she’d cuddled Molly, flicked on the low light her sister found comforting and read to her until she’d fallen asleep again. With Molly clinging to her, Izzy could pretend everything was going to be all right. Molly loved her. Molly needed her. Somehow, this whole mess would work out.

Izzy had wondered about the nightmare, though. Was Flora responsible? She felt angry with her dad for making a bad situation worse. Still, at least her dad and Flora hadn’t been hugging and kissing at the table, so there was that. She’d been watching for it, ready to intervene if she witnessed any behavior unsuitable for Molly. But there was nothing. Izzy might have thought that her father and Flora were no more than friends if it hadn’t been for that one glance. That one single, longing glance Flora had sent her father and that Izzy had seen.

He hadn’t noticed because he’d been focused on Molly at the time, but Izzy had noticed.