Emilia admired the kitchen as Shannon poured glasses of wine, praising the hanging copper pots, trailing houseplants, and granite countertops. Morgan observed her mother warming to the praise with satisfaction, though she knew that Shannon would reserve judgment for now.

“Here you are,” her father said as he came through the kitchen door bearing a handful of freshly cut herbs. Their fragrance filled her nostrils, and she breathed in the sharp, piney scent of rosemary. “And you must be Emilia.”

Emilia smiled and stuck out her hand. Aaron Donovan shook it as he apologized for the soil still clinging to his fingers.

“I don’t mind a little dirt,” said Emilia.

“Careful, or he’ll put you to work in the garden,” said Shannon.

Aaron winked at Morgan and Emilia. “Come sit with me on the porch before your mother puts us to work in here.”

“Do you want any help?” Emilia asked Shannon.

Shannon waved them away, and they followed Aaron out to the back porch, which overlooked the pasture and the woods beyond.

“It’s nice to meet you again, Emilia.”

Emilia gave him a puzzled look.

“Last time I saw you, you were maybe four years old. You wouldn’t remember, of course.”

“I remember seeing Morgan, growing up,” said Emilia.

Morgan fixed her eyes on her wine to avoid blushing, remembering Emilia’s confession of unrequited adolescent love. How the tables have turned.

“My little hellion.” He smiled at Morgan. “She’s slowed down some, although you still drive too fast in that boat of yours.”

“Be nice,” Shannon said as she joined them.

“My wife drives too fast, too,” he said in a stage whisper.

“Your father and my husband were friends in high school, and from what he’s told me, they were responsible for their fair share of trouble.”

“Ray was the ringleader. Very charismatic. Charmed us out of a few detentions. Did he ever tell you about the time we filled the football team’s lockers with shaving cream?”

“You’re that Aaron?” said Emilia.

Morgan studied Emilia as her father regaled them with stories of Ray’s youth. Emilia hung on his every word, laughing as he exaggerated their exploits, and biting her lip periodically in a way that made Morgan think she was biting back tears. Her hand twitched in her lap, desperate to hold Emilia.

A prickling sensation at the back of her neck alerted her to danger. She tore her eyes away from Emilia and found her mother watching her with a calculating expression on her face. Morgan stared back defiantly.