I glanced at Charlie to see he suddenly looked almost relieved. Because he’d been recognized. I could see that the reminder of Charlie’s stardom had done the opposite for him. It had reaffirmed his identity.

Why didn’t it do that for me?

I needed some solid footing. I wanted solid footing. Something to cling to in this new world of uncertainty. And yet, the mention of Nova had made me feel even more lost.

Katelyn craned her neck as we walked by, obviously getting a look at what had to be a person sleeping on the sofa. The boy with the broken arm, I assumed.

I saw a family photo on the wall, including an older woman who was obviously their mom. But she didn’t appear to be here. Was she gone somewhere? Or were she and the sheriff divorced?

We followed Katelyn and the sheriff into the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Dad’s going to grill some dinner out back,” she said, nodding toward the window where I could see the side of a barbecue. “We’re trying to conserve the gas, but we also need to eat the meat we have before the last of the ice melts and it spoils.”

“We really appreciate the hospitality.” I smiled. “We can’t thank you enough.”

“People have to come together in a time like this,” Katelyn said.

“It seems like your town is doing that,” I said.

“We are. But Silver Creek is small.” She glanced at her dad worriedly. “It’s the bigger towns that might be scarier.”

There was a stilted moment that I didn’t really understand as her gaze hung on her dad before he looked away. “Tuck has a little medical training and is going to take a look at Brent’s arm,” he said. The sheriff cleared his throat and clapped Tuck on the back. “I appreciate you being willing, but like I said, if it’s above your training level, you tell us truthfully.”

“Yes, sir,” Tuck said. “I will.”

I leaned against the counter, wincing when it made contact with the back of my hip, where I hadn’t had the chance to change my wound dressing since the day before, causing it to split. Great. Back to square one. The flash of Tuck’s warm hands on my skin several days before came back, but I pressed my hip against the counter again so the pain would move my mind away from that particular memory.

There was a soft cry from the direction of the living room, and Katelyn started moving toward the door. “I’ll be right back,” she murmured. “Dad, will you get out some Tylenol and a glass of water?” she asked, hurrying out of the room.

“Dammit to hell,” the sheriff muttered, rifling through a cabinet behind him and pulling out a bottle of Tylenol.