“But we both saw it?” I cock my head, smiling.

He doesn’t answer, goes back to whistling, unbothered, so I decide I’m not fussed either.

“What’s on your agenda today?” I ask on impulse. “Would you mind an audience?”

I could stay out. Just never go back. Hang out with John, my fellow skeptic, as long as the Day allows.

John raises his eyebrows. Keeps whistling, eyes on the track ahead. I feel my color rising, like I’ve suggested something wildly inappropriate.

There she is. There’s the demon in you.

“I could bring the kids up,” I chirp. “I’ll keep Emma from getting underfoot. I just think it would be better for them, us, to be away from the village. And all that.”

“All that indeed.” John drums a quick beat on the steering wheel. “I don’t mind a bit. We can pick ’em up when we deposit Max. Unless the dog would like to tag along too.”

He hasn’t mentioned Hugh, I notice. He knows damn well Hugh won’t leave the house.

“I’m sure the dog would, but I think he’s had enough thrills tod—”

I see him. I stretch my arm through the open window to point.

“There. The grove.”

Max is sprinting toward the oaks, a streak of brown fur, head low like he’s being hunted. To be fair, I guess he is.

“Well spotted, Lady Treadway.” John cuts the wheel sharply to turn us across the bumpy heath toward the trees.

The grove looms larger with every lurch of the pickup. My skin feels raw, remembering yesterday.

“So, I’m curious,” I blurt, distracting myself. “How do you explain the war fatalities? The fact that there aren’t any, I mean. Jo swears up and down we’ve never—”

“Ah yes, the war memorial with no names on it.” He slows the truck. “I’ve never investigated myself, but I’d take Jo at her word. She’s no liar. Good head on her shoulders, that one.”

His eyes go twinkly, and I wonder if he has other thoughts about Jo that he’s less inclined to share. I face away to smile, picturing the two of them together. Where the hell would they go for a date on Lute?

I smother a smirk and turn back to him. “So? What’s your theory?”