She hops up and down on her toes, glances down the hallway, then toward the other end of the hallway, where Ruth lives. She sucks on her bottom lip so hard it makes her bucktoothed.

“Are you waiting for someone else?” I ask and can’t help but look down the hallway too. It’s empty. “I didn’t have anyone else on the calendar.”

The girl stops fidgeting, stares up at me. “No, it’s just me. But I don’t want Ruth to see me. She doesn’t think I should be here.” Her eyes go round, and she lowers her voice but not by much, because I think the girl has no understanding of volume control. “Ecausebay eshay oesnday wantay me to—” She blows air out her nose. “Pig Latin is too hard. Ruth is worried that I’m too much for you ’cause I’m a real handful.” The girl looks at me through the empty lenses of her too-big glasses.

I smile. “Ruth thinks all kids are a real handful, but that’s only because I was. Come in, Maree. Let’s see how big a handful you really are.”

The girl turns her body to show a small guitar slung beside her backpack.

“I like your guitar,” I say.

“Thanks! The cookie lady gave it to me.” The girl shrugs.

“The cookie lady?”

Maree narrows her eyes, tilts her head. “Yeah. Isn’t she your mom?”

A tingling runs across my back, and my hand is already pulling out a note card from my pocket and it tells me . . . no—I dig my nails into my palm—reminds me about Dad and Mom and Tate. Hash marks cover the note card; I’ve read it dozens and dozens of times. “My mom does love to bake.”

“Oh boy, does she. On Saturdays, she bakes cookies with any kids in the building who want to eat cookies.” Her eyes roll to the ceiling. “Who doesn’t want to eat free cookies? Can we start now?”

I move out of the way, and when she skips past me, I smell flowers tinged with something sweet, like licorice. A perfect kid kind of smell. I take a moment before following her, lean back against the door, breathe deep, and with my eyes closed visualize my notebook and the file folder with Maree’s name written across the tab, because I’m sure I’ve prepared that. I’m going to start by teaching her the way I learned with Mom.