“I can wait outside.” Cody started to turn, but Louisa’s hand on his arm stopped him. He forced himself not to think about how soft her skin was or the delicious vanilla smell of her. He met her eyes, and she quickly turned back to Jackson’s parents.

“We’re so sorry for what you’re going through,” Louisa said.

The woman’s lips drew into a tight, thin line, but the man’s face relaxed.

“Thank you for that,” he said. “It’s been hard.”

“We check in on Jackson’s progress often,” Louisa said.

The woman scoffed. “What progress?” Her eyes flashed, and Cody could see her anger was only a cover for the deep sadness and fear she was feeling. Anger, he often found, could keep a person safe. How many years had he worn that same cloak so he wouldn’t have to feel anything?

He’d been doing so well too, right up until he moved back to the island.

“The doctors aren’t hopeful.” Jackson’s father put his hands on his wife’s shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” Louisa whispered.

“Why are you here?” the woman asked.

Louisa cleared her throat. “Deborah, we’d like to do something for your family, and we wanted to make sure it was okay with you.”

Jackson’s mother didn’t respond.

“What did you have in mind?” Mr. Wirth asked.

Louisa glanced at the chair on the opposite side of Jackson’s bed. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Please,” Mr. Wirth said.

Deborah kept her gaze tightly on her son.

Louisa stilled at Jackson’s side. Cody watched as she studied the boy. “I read that he liked old cars?”

Deborah looked up at Louisa, then back to Jackson. She leaned in closer to the boy. “Yes. They’ve always been his favorite thing. Ever since he was little.”

Louisa gave a soft nod.

“He dreamed of owning a garage full of old Mustangs,” Jackson’s dad said with a smile. “One from every decade.”

Silence hung in the room, and Cody wished he could bolt. Louisa sure was taking her time here. He glanced at Jackson’s mom. Wiry and thin with wispy hair on the brink of changing color, like oak trees in autumn.

Louisa leaned forward, gaze still on Jackson. “He sure is a handsome kid.” She smiled then and looked at Mrs. Wirth.

Louisa had always been good with people. She was so natural and easygoing. She was friendly and charming and not the least bit shy. But this—it was more than that. She was genuine. He never once got the impression that she was trying to sell anyone on anything. She had a job to do, sure, but she made certain that job was beneficial to someone who needed a little light in their life right now.

Maybe his family shouldn’t have pushed her away in their own hour of need.