No, scratch that. These weren’t remains. The bulk of her takeout dinner from the Myrtle was untouched. She’d poked at the green beans, downed a few bites of the meat loaf, and swiped up a forkful or two of mashed potatoes.

He squirted dish soap into the sink and gave her a surreptitious scan. Even the brownies from Sweet Dreams Bakery hadn’t sparked her appetite. They sat untouched on the plate in the center of the table.

Man, this was hard. Far harder than he’d anticipated.

But grief took many forms. In Hannah’s case, it seemed to be manifesting itself through muteness and an aversion to food.

After wiping his hands on a towel, he rejoined her at the table. “Did you like the beach today?”

“I guess.”

“The starfish we saw at the tide pools were colorful, weren’t they?”

“Uh-huh.”

So much for conversation. But maybe he could tempt her to eat. Chocolate wasn’t the healthiest way to rack up calories, but desperation trumped sound nutrition at this stage.

“These are the best brownies in the world.” He took a square he didn’t want. “You should try one.”

She regarded him with the same solemn expression she’d worn since his arrival at Erica’s high-rise condo late Monday afternoon. “My mom made the best brownies in the world.”

Of course she did. No store-bought version would ever compare to a treat made by a loving mother.

He set the brownie down on his paper napkin. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Did she ever make them for you?”

“No.”

Hannah took a drink of milk, leaving a white mustache above her lip, her gaze never leaving his. “Aunt Erica said my mom liked you a lot.”

News to him, until he’d spoken with Natalie’s sister. Yes, they’d had quite a few conversations that carried past the end of her shift during the summer he’d spent in St. Louis. She’d been a sympathetic listener, and her upbeat attitude had lifted his sprits.

But she’d never let on that her feelings went deeper than friendship.

Until that last night.

Yet as she’d said in her note, their hours together had been about comfort rather than commitment.

On his end, anyway.

“I liked her too.”

“So why did you leave?”

O-kay.

This wasn’t a conversation he’d expected to have so soon, after Hannah’s reticence—but her sudden willingness to ask questions could be a step forward.

Now all he had to do was come up with answers.

“It’s kind of complicated.”

“That’s what Aunt Erica said.” She continued to watch him, a fat tear forming in the corner of one eye. “I miss my mom.”

His gut twisted. Dealing with little-girl tears was way beyond his realm of expertise.