She helped Dayana unload her bags and dumped Dean with the responsibility of helping her sister choose a bedroom. The second they disappeared upstairs, Maggie went in search of Silas. She found him and Keaton on the north side of the house. Silas was watering the plantings while her nephew chased dog and cats through the wet mulch, squealing with delight. The kid was positively filthy and seemed downright joyful about it.

“I know you’re mad at me,” Maggie said. “And you have every right to be, but I need advice and I need it fast.”

Silas glanced at her and then the hose.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did it,” she said, reading his mind.

He put down the hose and crossed his arms. “What’s the situation?” he asked.

She filled him in on Dayana’s predicament. “So what do I do?”

“About what?”

“Dayana and I don’t have that kind of relationship. I barely know her, and she wants to stay here.”

He rubbed a thumb over his lower lip. “Do you want to know her?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I guess? Is it bad if I admit that I’m pretty comfortable with us not knowing each other? And I’ve got a lot going on already without adding a sticky family situation into the mix.” The weight of it all settled on her shoulders. She felt a rising panic. “How am I going to keep working, keep filming, keep searching for answers about the Campbells, while dating a man who regularly hauls me out of my comfort zone, and make time for some kind of family crisis?”

Her chest felt tight, like the stress of responsibility was about to burst out of her rib cage. But an exploded rib cage would set her too far back.

Silas put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “Look at me, Mags. You aren’t doing any of this alone. And a family crisis is a privilege because it means you have a family to be in crisis with. Your sister—and don’t give me that bullshit about half-sister—came here because she needs you. That incredibly dirty little boy needs you.”

“I don’t want anyone to need me,” she insisted. She also wasn’t fond of the idea of needing anyone herself.

Keeping Keaton in sight, Silas steered her to the side of the house. He pressed himself against her, and for some reason, his weight calmed her. And that annoyed her.

“I’d like to make it clear that I’m still mad at you.”

“Acknowledged,” Maggie said, trying not to melt into him.

“But being a good boyfriend doesn’t mean only showing up when you’re not pissed off,” he continued. He leaned down to nuzzle at her neck. “Now, I want you to imagine you’re on your deathbed.”