She’d just passed Sydney’s room when Sydney called out, “I had a lot of calls before you came home tonight.”

Claire backed up a step and peered into Sydney’s room. Sydney was awake, lying in bed with her arms behind her head. “Eliza Beaufort, Carrie, people at the party I didn’t even know. They all said the same thing. That they were sorry. Eliza and Carrie even said they really liked me in high school and they wished things were different. What did you say to them?”

“I didn’t say a word.”

Sydney paused, and Claire knew by her next question that she was beginning to understand. “What did you give them?”

“I gave them lemon-balm sorbet in tulip cups. I put dandelion petals in the fruit salad, and mint leaves in the chocolate mousse.”

“That wasn’t on the dessert menu,” Sydney said.

“I know.”

“I noticed Emma Clark and her mother never called.”

Claire leaned against the doorjamb. “They caught on to what I was doing. They wouldn’t eat the dessert buffet. And I was ordered to leave.”

“Did they pay you the remainder of your fee?”

“No. And I’ve had two cancelations tonight from acquaintances of theirs.”

A rustle of sheets. Sydney turned in bed to face Claire. “I’m sorry.”

“They officially canceled, but they’ll call again when they need something. They’ll just want me to keep it a secret.”

“I’ve messed things up. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t mess anything up,” Claire said. “Please don’t leave, Sydney. I want you here. I may not act like it sometimes, but I do.”

“I’m not leaving. I can’t.” Sydney sighed. “As crazy as this place is, the way people think, the sameness, is what makes it safe. Bay needs that. I’m her mother, I have to give that to her.”

The words were left hanging in the air, and Claire could tell immediately that Sydney wanted to take them back. “Did you leave someplace that wasn’t safe?” Claire had to ask.

But she should have known Sydney wouldn’t answer. She shifted in her bed again, turning away. “I wish you’d do something about him,” Sydney said, pointing to her open window. “It’s hard to sleep with that.”

There was a faint purple light filtering in. Curious, Claire entered Sydney’s room and went to the window, which overlooked Tyler’s house. She looked down and found Tyler walking around his front yard in pajama bottoms and nothing else, a cigarette in his hand. He was radiating those tiny purple snaps again. Occasionally he would stop and look over to the Waverley house, then he’d resume pacing.

“You can see it?” Claire asked, still looking down at Tyler.

“Of course.”

“Then you’re more of a Waverley than you give yourself credit for being.”

Sydney snorted. “Oh, joy. So what are you going to do about him?”

Claire ignored the flutter like tiny birds’ wings in her chest. She moved away from the window. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Just because no one expects you to do it doesn’t mean you can’t. Don’t you ever want to prove people wrong?”