Since she couldn’t imagine eating her pancakes across the table from Jack Patriot, she ate standing up, too. The back door opened, and April came in. She wore khakis, a coral top with a ribbon tie, and her sandals with a rainbow wedge. Riley followed, her damp brown hair parted in the center and pulled back from her forehead with a series of iridescent blue clips that April must have arranged. With Riley’s curls tamed a little, her pretty toasted-sugar eyes were more noticeable. She’d exchanged yesterday’s FOXY T-shirt for a black one just as tight with a woman’s pouty, crimson lips on the front. Dean turned away to make a trip into the pantry. As Riley spotted her father, she stopped where she was.

Jack rose but, once he was on his feet, didn’t seem to know what to do next. He settled on the obvious. “There you are.”

Riley picked at a remnant of fingernail polish.

“I made pancakes,” Blue said brightly.

April avoided looking at either Jack or her son. “We ate cereal at the cottage.”

“I hope you thanked April,” said the man who’d once kicked a drum set across the stage and told a cop to fuck himself.

Dean came out of the pantry, an unnecessary jar of peanut butter in his hand. This might be the first time he’d been in the same room with both of his parents. He stood stony and silent. Although he didn’t need anyone’s protection, she went to his side anyway and slipped her arm around his waist.

Jack reached in his pocket. “I’ll call Frankie to pick us up.”

“I don’t want to go,” Riley mumbled. And then, as he pulled out his cell, “I—I’m not going.”

He looked up from the phone. “What are you talking about? You’ve already missed a week of school. You have to get back.”

Her chin came up. “Summer vacation starts next week, and I finished my work. Ava has it.”

He’d obviously forgotten, but he tried to cover. “Aunt Gayle is expecting you. She arranged for you and your cousin to go to that camp in two weeks.”

“I don’t want to go to camp! It’s stupid, and Trinity will get everybody to make fun of me.” She dropped her pink jacket and backpack. Red blotches sprang up on her cheeks. “If you try to make me, I’ll—I’ll just run away again. And I know how to do it.”

Riley’s show of rebellion took him aback, but Blue wasn’t surprised. This was the same kid who’d managed to get from Nashville to her half-brother’s farm in the dead of night. Dean’s muscles had gone rigid beneath his T-shirt. Blue rubbed the small of his back with her fingertips.