Dad was quiet so long that I had to look up. “You?” he finally said. “A loner?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I—that’s how I like it.”

He gave me a puzzled look before he said, “That doesn’t really sound like you. Want to talk about that, Evie?”

I thought about Sam. My heart started to pound. I wouldn’t have been able to speak even if I’d wanted to. I shook my head.

“Okaaaay,” Dad said. “Well, whatever that’s about, I can see that you’re helping Oren, and I’m sure he appreciates it, even if you’re not ‘friends.’ ” He did air quotes around the word.

I cleared my throat. “I don’t feel like I’m helping him very much.”

“You are,” Dad said. “Just give him time.”

I rolled my eyes. “Everyone keeps saying that!”

“Because it’s good advice.” Dad smiled. “He seems to be enjoying your crafty stuff.”

“It’s art therapy,” I said. “He’s going to make a memorial for his parents out of the programs from their funeral.”

“Really?” Dad tilted his head. “Was this your idea?”

“No,” I said. “Well, the quilling was, but creating a memorial was his. He liked my picture and wants to make a tree of life using the programs.”

He smiled. “That’ll be perfect.”

“Did you know that the name Oren means ‘tree’?”

“I did,” he said with a smile. “It’s Hebrew. Just like your name in Hebrew means ‘life.’ And Natan means ‘He gave.’ ”

“He gave what?” I asked. “He gave me a pain in the butt? Sounds about right.”

“God gave us the blessing of a son,” Dad corrected, pretending to be stern, but he was smiling. “We chose Hebrew names for you kids as a reminder of where we come from. Plus, Evelyn was your grandmother’s name.”

“I know.” It was kind of weird to be named after a grandmother who had died before I was even born. But also kind of nice at the same time. Like I had a responsibility to carry on a tradition.

“I love the memorial idea,” Dad said. “It’s very fitting. I think you’re right that it’ll be therapeutic for him. I hope it makes him feel better to put that together. I’m looking forward to seeing it when it’s done.”

“I’ll probably need to help him,” I said. “Since he’s a beginner quiller and he has his hand in a cast. But that’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Well, if anyone can help him, it’s you,” Dad said before he pushed back from his desk and stood up. “Now, it’s getting late and I have a bit more work to do here before I can pack up for the night. Why don’t you head home?”

“I’m not done yet though,” I said, sliding out of my chair.

“Everything’s fine,” he said. “Go on home. Oh, and Evie?”

I looked over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

“The funeral is tomorrow morning. How do you feel about that movie in the afternoon? I could use a break.”

“That would be awesome,” I said. “I’m pretty sure Oren will think so too.”