“Coffee?” Maura asked. She wasn’t opposed to coffee, but her daughter rarely drank it. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“As a matter of fact, no,” Irene said. “We’ve been here all night talking about the Bonners.”

It seemed Maura couldn’t escape that damn family.

“Speaking of them—”

But Irene cut her off. “We can talk about it when you get here. Please come, and bring Addison.”

Irene hung up before Maura could tell her that Addison was already gone.

Maura took her time getting to Lavender & Lemon Balm. She hadn’t even finished her morning tea before she’d found Addison sneaking out.

Only after her leaves informed her of what she already knew—the trouble all stemmed from the Bonners and her granddaughter’s magic—and she’d watered the front-yard vegetable patch, did she wash up and head into town.

Yarrow was still crawling with tourists as the second day of the festival was in full swing. She navigated around the blocked-off town square before making it to the tiny lot behind the tea shop and trudging up the back steps. Inside she found Irene, Kaden, Clem, and Taylor sitting around the table, with boxes of takeout scattered throughout the room and the shop sign flipped to Closed.

For the first time in decades, Maura was glad she only made her harvest baskets to order. Otherwise, there’d be no one to sell them, since her entire family was here. She set a traveler box of coffee on the table along with a stack of paper cups.

“My hero,” Clem said.

“Thanks, Mom,” Irene echoed.

Kaden was the first to the box. Maura crossed her arms as she looked him over. She’d been warming up to him, but watching him help himself rankled her.

He handed the first cup to Irene, and Maura flushed. She caught Irene’s look, wondered what her daughter saw in her aura, and sat down as Kaden filled two more cups—one for each of the women at the table—before looking up at Maura. “You want one?”

She shook her head. “I had tea.”

“Where’s Addison?” Irene asked.

“I am not your daughter’s keeper.”

Irene narrowed her eyes as the distinct sound of a cicada’s hum started up outside the window. “What happened?”

“She went digging around in the shadow garden and it attacked her,” Maura said.

“It did what?” Irene asked.

“And now it’s even worse than before,” Maura said. “The plants are hurting. They’re dying.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Irene asked.

“I was going to tell you on the phone, but you hung up.”

Irene held her face in her hand. “This is not a time to be petty, Mom.”