Ivy leaned in, smiling with her lips shut. “You look green. You want me to go up there with you and hold your hand?”

“Can’t you be nice to me for once?” I said, and she laughed. “Trent isn’t going to show,” I added, wondering what my mother was telling Pierce. His eyes were wide, and my mother’s expression was intent.

“Is that necessarily a bad thing?” Ivy asked, and I tried to decide if she was joking.

“I’m worried about Jenks,” I said, and she nodded. “Has he called?” I asked for the umpteenth time, and she shook her head, eyes falling from mine.

I thought of my phone, in my bag, wondering if I should turn it off. I didn’t want to miss Jenks’s call if it should come in. A flash of guilt hit me. It was too late now to call Bis, too.

A stir at the door we had come in caught my attention, and I turned away when the man my mom had threatened came in, pointing our way. “Don’t look,” I told Ivy, thinking that they were going to haul her out, but my fear vanished in a wash of elation when the familiar clatter of pixy wings sparked through me.

“Jenks!” I exclaimed, suddenly feeling ten feet tall as I saw the glint of pixy dust. I didn’t care if people were staring and whispering loudly. I waved like a fool, grinning when a bright sparkle at the top of the theater dropped to us.

“Oh my God, Jenks!” I said, elated and feeling the size difference between us keenly as he came to a pixy-dust-laden halt in the center of our group. He was smiling, a long tear in his black sleeve and his hair matted, but he was okay. “How did it go? Are you all right? Where’s Trent?” I asked, wanting to give Jenks a hug but having to settle for extending my hand for him.

Jenks nodded to everyone, zipping around Ivy to wreathe her in silver sparkles. “I’m good,” he said, wings moving well and clearly overflowing with energy. “You’ll never believe it, Rache,” he said, eyes sparkling with news. “Trent’s here. He’s in the bathroom with Lucy.”

“Lucy?” I asked, wondering if Ellasbeth had a younger sister. “What did you do?”

Jenks landed on my hand, then sprang into the air, unable to contain himself. “You’ll never guess!” he said, darting back and forth. “The guy is slicker than toad snot. Trent is—”

“A daddy,” Ivy interrupted, her gaze fixed on the door we’d come in.

I spun as Jenks yo-yoed up and down, shrilling so high and fast I couldn’t understand him. My eyes bugged out, and beside me, my mother swore. “No. Friggin’. Way,” I said.

Trent was on the threshold in his usual thousand-dollar suit, rearranging his badge and surrounded by too many women. One was jiggling a fussing infant. A girl from the looks of the sweet little bonnet. Lucy?

“No. Friggin’. Way!” I said again, touching gazes with Ivy before I looked back and saw Trent take the baby. My eyes widened. She was his?