Zoe rolled her lips together before answering. “I like it a lot better here.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Mr. and Mrs. Wilson are a lot nicer, and I have a whole room to myself. I don’t have to share with anyone. And Daniel isn’t mean, he even let me play Xbox with him.”

“Daniel is Mr. and Mrs. Wilson’s son,” I explained to Kenna.

“I’m so happy to hear that.” Kenna wrapped Zoe in another quick hug.

“Sorry about that,” Ingrid Wilson bustled back into the living room. “Five or fourteen, there’s always something that boy has misplaced. This time, it was his math homework. Think the teacher will believe that Loki ate it?”

A huge smile spread across Zoe’s face. “Loki is Daniel’s ferret. We got to play with him last night, and he’s really cool.” She looked up at Ingrid. “But I don’t think he’d eat a bunch of paper.”

Ingrid chuckled. “I thought it might be worth a try.” She turned her attention back to Kenna and me. “Please, come on into the kitchen. I’m not the best cook, my husband is more the chef around these parts, but I have mastered the art of toaster waffles and cutting up fruit.”

Kenna studied Ingrid carefully. If the middle-aged woman could tell she was under the microscope, she didn’t seem too bothered by it. But then again, she and her husband had put up with the third degree from me the day before.

We settled at the large, worn kitchen table that had enough chairs to seat eight. The scratches on the surface spoke of many meals held in this spot, and no one too overly concerned about a ding here or there. Ingrid placed a large platter of waffles, a bowl of mixed berries, and some whipped cream on the table.

I began pouring Zoe a glass of orange juice. “This looks amazing.”

Zoe nodded, a look of wonder on her face that had me cursing the girl’s mother and her earlier foster parents.

Kenna cleared her throat. “Thank you for letting us come over before school. I know it was last-minute.”

Ingrid gave Kenna a gentle smile. “I completely understand. I’m glad Zoe’s got two such caring champions in her corner. As I told Crosby, you’re welcome to come by anytime. And I’ll give you my cell number. You can text me if you want to check in.”

The set of Kenna’s shoulders eased a fraction, and I knew Ingrid was winning her over in the same way she had me. These were good, caring people, who worked with the foster system for all the right reasons. “Thank you. That would be wonderful. And if you and your husband ever need a date night, I’d be happy to babysit.”