Charlie’s voice filtered back into the kitchen. “It was just Mom, Fifi. Go back to bed.”

The sound of three sets of footsteps and one set of paws thumping up the stairs along with Felicity’s grumbles—although Molly couldn’t hear whether she was complaining about Jane’s lack of courtesy or the hated nickname—gradually quieted. Molly turned her attention back to Norah, who still seemed to be waiting for an answer, even though it was obvious.

“Yeah, Mom tried to trade cars with me.” Molly forced a smile for her sister. Although Norah was almost twenty-four, she looked younger, thanks to her usual anxious expression and the way her baggy pajamas overwhelmed her slight frame. Her medical alert bracelet hung around her wrist like a bangle, even though it was tightened to the smallest setting.

“Why did she need your car?” Norah asked.

Molly made a face as she moved over to her abandoned seat and plopped down in it. “Apparently, I’m not the mom, so I don’t get to ask that.”

The tension in Norah’s face faded slightly as she settled on the other chair. “Did she sell her car again for cash?”

“No. It’s just making an odd noise—or that’s what she said, at least.” Propping her elbow on the table and setting her chin in her hand, Molly arched her eyebrows at Norah. Her sister knew as well as Molly that their mom played fast and loose with the truth. “I’m guessing it’s something else, like she dropped part of her burrito under the seat and it’s starting to really stink.”

Norah gave a small huff of a laugh, and Molly grinned, triumphant that she’d gotten her sister’s anxiety to ease—at least temporarily. Not wanting her to dwell on where Jane was going or why she’d wanted Molly’s car, since Norah always assumed the worst possible scenarios were true, Molly quickly changed the subject.

“I hate having conversations like that with Mom,” she said, slumping forward even more to rest her cheek on her crossed arms. “I turn into this strict, mean, no-fun rules, rules, rules nun-teacher person who I kind of hate.”

“You have to.” Norah mirrored her position so they both had their heads down, facing each other. “If you don’t set rules, then there will be no rules. Mom certainly isn’t going to set any. And I don’t hate your nun-teacher person. I find her reassuring.”

“Not very fun, though.”

“Fun has its place,” Norah said seriously. “Without rules, fun can be really scary. Remember Mom’s middle-of-the-night family dance parties that time Lono left for a few months?”

Molly grimaced. “Now I do. I’ve worked really hard to forget that mess. Thanks for the reminder, Norah.”

Even though Molly had been teasing, Norah didn’t smile as she played with her medical alert bracelet. “At least she stopped after I went to the hospital during the last one.”

That erased the last bit of Molly’s amusement. “I should’ve kept her from dragging you out of bed that night. I knew it would lead to an asthma attack. Back then, you had to nebulize after going up the stairs too fast.”