That was a dumb question. Her old, beat-up car was parked in the driveway and didn’t look as though it’d been moved since he’d left for New Horizons this morning. Why would she go anywhere? She was loath to let anyone see her.

“Can you please answer me? Kiki is squawking. I think she might need something.”

“I’ll be over to check on her soon.”

Aha! Mentioning the bird had elicited a response. “I’m sorry about what happened when...when you came over yesterday. I heard the security system announce activity at the front door and thought you’d say something or just let yourself out again. I never expected to find you in my bedroom. But...never mind. I overreacted, for sure. Let’s just say... I wasn’t aware of your situation.”

No response.

“Are you hungry? The food I brought is still out here. Maybe you’re picky about what you eat, like me. Typical restaurant food isn’t all that healthy.”

Again, no answer.

“If I bring you something else, will you eat it?” he called through the door.

“No. Save your money” came her reply.

That wasn’t the answer he’d been hoping for, but it sounded as though she was just on the other side of the wooden panel. At least he’d drawn her to the door. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not hungry. And you have other stuff to do like...create another giant sculpture or something.”

That sounded flattering, he thought sarcastically. “You don’t like my work?”

“I have no opinion on it.”

But she’d seen it. One of his best pieces sat on a pedestal in the entryway of the main house—and there were more sculptures and paintings in other rooms. There could even be a piece or two in the guesthouse. Seth didn’t know because he’d never seen it. This was his first time on the property. But he didn’t say anything. “Okay. I’ll let you get back to...to whatever it is you’ve been doing. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay,” she said flatly.

It was the right answer, but he could tell she was lying. She wasn’t even remotely okay. She was drowning in depression. All the classic signs were there. He just didn’t know what to do about it, except maybe... “I know someone who...who might be able to help you,” he said.

“Help me do what?” came her disembodied voice.

“Feel better.”

“Are you talking about a surgeon who can fix my face? Or a shrink who might be able to fix my mind? Because I think both of those things are impossible at this point.”

“I was actually talking about my mom,” he said simply.

“Your mom?”