I wondered that he didn’t drive Mrs. Trent out of her mind. She always left the room when I came, heading to the bathroom for a shower, or to the kitchen for a visit with Gran.

I also wondered why Ezra made his trips back and forth but never left the room.

But I didn’t spend much time worrying about that. At least I knew where to find him.

Gran took most of my weekly chores. She said, “The days are too short for you to be of any use after school.” So she shouldered the bulk of the farm work and I spent more time with Ezra.

On weekends, though, Gran did paperwork, milking and lambing records, and I did the chores.

The barn needed mucking out, the manure piled for composting. Back and forth on the tractor. I’d put a week or so into it already. I had another two or three weeks of work to go.

Sometimes Muncie tagged along with me. Then, when all the work was done, she’d come up with an idea to hold me longer, like sledding in the front pasture, or snowball fights. Anything that kept me out with her.

Afterward I would come to Ezra’s room red-cheeked, smelling of snow and wet wool. Striding down the hall, I felt a smile unfold inside me like a new leaf.

One Saturday Muncie trundled down and rushed me through chores. The night before, five inches of fresh clean snow had fallen. Perfect packing snow. In the distance the blue sky stretched over rolling waves of white.

When we finished with the sheep, Muncie dragged her boot across the field beside the steep front pasture, dividing it into two halves. Caleb sat at my side, his tail wagging a fan-shaped pattern in the snow.

“First we build forts,” Muncie said. “Choose your weapon.”

Muncie held up a hollow plastic block for making snow bricks in one hand, and a sand pail in the other.

I chose the snow brick.

Then Muncie and I stood on the dividing line back to back, and Muncie counted ten paces. Her voice echoed down the valley.

Caleb danced around us, springing up in the air and butting me with his nose. Our boots crunched in the snow as Muncie and I paced away from each other. Here I had the advantage: my legs stretched longer. I could get farther from the line than Muncie. But Muncie had the stronger pitching arm.

Every now and then I’d look up toward the house and wonder about Ezra. I almost wished the curtain would open, even with Muncie there, but the curtain stayed closed.

Muncie built her fort quickly. That girl did everything fast. As soon as her fortress wall was up, she slunk behind it and started packing snowballs. Caleb barked and tunneled his nose into the snow, throwing snoutfuls up in the air.

I checked on Muncie’s progress every few minutes, working furiously to catch up with her.

“You’re going to eat ice, Nyle Sumner,” Muncie called, still wearing her radiation mask.