“She seems to be settling in well,” Dawn continued. “Even Lila’s starting to come around. She’s no longer looking for families who might want to adopt her if everything fails.”

Oh. Yes, Bubbles was the little darling. Because she was little. And a darling.

“Um.” Sophie willed the blood away from her cheeks and said the first thing that popped into her mind. “She’s doing great, just great. No problems, no worries.”

“None at all?” Dawn asked without looking up from her pile of yarn.

“Well…”

Sophie bit her lip and pretended to work through a particularly complicated cable stitch. She’d never been a great liar, especially where her sisters were concerned, but she wasn’t sure how to respond in a way that was truthful and wouldn’t undermine her progress.

“To be honest, she’s still wary of a few things,” she said and superstitiously crossed her knitting needles since her fingers were busy.

“What kind of things?”

Oh, you know. Fire. Flames. The catastrophic infernos Harrison had dedicated his life to subduing.

“Um. She didn’t react very well to a fire Harrison started in his fireplace one morning. She seems to be doing okay with your candles though.”

“My candles? When has she been anywhere near my candles?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Sophie looked up at her sister with her most innocent expression. From the way Dawn was watching her, her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled at the tip, Sophie knew she was nearing trouble. “I took a few over as a…gift. To win over Harrison’s dad. He likes the bergamot one. He says it helps him sleep.”

“That’s not a surprise, Soph. But they’re awfully strong, and you know it’s not a good idea to confuse the puppy’s sense of smell this early on. Not while—”

“Of course I know that!” she protested. The moralizing note in Dawn’s voice was veering far too close to Lila’s for Sophie’s peace of mind. “The ones in the rest of the house and Harrison’s room are unscented. I’m not an idiot.”

“Why do there need to be candles in Harrison’s room at all?” The question was asked with heavy suspicion, but Dawn’s imagination soon took over. “Ooh, don’t tell me—I can make several guesses, and all of them are rated Not for Church Basements. You made it to the crop top already, didn’t you?”