“You can if you want to. But that’s a lot of mismatched socks. Come sit.” Anna Maria steered her to the bed, where she sat with her knees tucked under her chin while her sister opened drawers and rifled through the closet, taking inventory of the contents under her breath. She turned to Emilia when she finished. “I have a plan.”

Emilia nodded to indicate her willingness to listen.

“If this were my dad, I’d want to keep things I could wear, right? Like this.” She held up a faded flannel shirt. “So we leave anything like that for later and start with things you’re less attached to, like boxers, socks, undershirts, pants, and shoes.”

Emilia nodded again.

“And when we’re done, I’ll pour you a big glass of wine, feed you, and we’ll call it a day, okay?”

“Okay.” She wiped a rivulet of tears from her cheeks.

“Now. Let’s start with these. Ooh, trout-patterned boxers? He was a man of taste.”

•   •   •

“Do you ever think about what it would be like to end a day not smelling like an abscess?” Stevie asked as they pulled out of the Stevenson’s barnyard, the mingling odors of pus and manure joining them in the cab of the truck. Kraken sat up and sniffed the air with interest.

“Honestly? No,” said Morgan. “I’ve got to swing by my parents’ house and check on a horse for my mom. Want to come?”

Stevie brightened. “Yes. I haven’t seen your mom in ages.”

Morgan’s mother was in the barn feeding hay to her motley assortment of animals. She waved to them and dusted her hands off on her coveralls.

“Hey, Ma, how’s the gang?”

Several sheep, a blind llama, and a spotted donkey raised their heads at her voice before they resumed nibbling on their forage. Her mother’s horse, an old gelding named Bill, scratched his rear on the paddock gate at the end of the small barn. Horse hair flew into the air in clouds.

“Alive and well.” She kissed Morgan’s cheek. Shannon Donovan’s short curly hair was lighter than her daughter’s, but they shared the same slate-blue eyes and straight nose. She also stood nearly as tall as her daughter, which left Stevie craning her neck more often than not in their company. Shannon extended her arms to Stevie. “And how’s my favorite?”

“I’m right here, Mom,” said Morgan.

“You’re her daughter,” said Stevie. “She has to love you. I’m special.”

“Say hi to your father before you go. He’s got some new lures he wants to show you.”

“Hey, Ma, do you remember Ray Russo’s daughter?”

“I remember seeing Francesca with a baby girl. Cute little thing. Looked just like Ray.”

“She’s in town for a bit to deal with his estate.”

“Poor girl. Have you seen her?”

Stevie pulled a suggestive face behind Shannon’s back.