“Oh, they do. But they’ve known each other since elementary school, and they can work together even when they’re angry.”

“I couldn’t do that.”

“Me neither. Sometimes I’m even glad my boyfriend is four hours away.”

The farmhouse came into view a quarter mile up the road. Emilia didn’t see the truck now, either.

“How long have you worked at Seal Cove?”

“Two years. I went to school with Morgan—I think I told you that already—and she got a job here right after graduation. I specialized in exotics, and Morgan convinced me to come here once I passed my boards.”

“Did you know each other before Cornell?”

“No. I’m from Bath, and she’s from a little farther up the coast. Both of us swore we’d never come back to Maine.” She shook her head. “You can see how well that turned out.”

“Your greenhouse must be nice in the winter.”

“It is. Come on in for a second and I’ll grab you a glass of water, and then we can get you some plants.”

“You sure?” Emilia glanced at Nell.

“I’ll put the dogs out back. She can meet them there, or not at all if you prefer.”

Emilia, who had a bottle of water waiting in her car, hesitated, then nodded. Nothing but dust waited for her at home.

Lillian put the dogs out and then beckoned Emilia in.

“Hey, stranger,” Angie said, waving from the couch where she sprawled with a book propped on her chest.

“Missed you on our run,” said Lillian as Emilia waved.

“Liar. Oh hi, gorgeous.” Angie’s voice rose into a coo as Nell approached.

Nell greeted this new human with a cautious sniff. The reason for her caution rumbled to life as a black shape Emilia had taken for a throw pillow hissed.

“Shut up, James,” said Angie.

Nell beat a fast retreat to Emilia’s side. “I’ve heard about your cat.”

“The rumors are all true.” Angie prodded him with a socked foot. “He’s the worst of all time.”

“Here you go.” Lillian handed her a glass of water. Angie, for her part, put down her book, rose, stretched like a cat herself, and sauntered into the kitchen.

“You staying for dinner?” she asked.

“Oh. Um, I should probably get home and shower.”

“We have showers.”

“Stop peer pressuring her. You’re always welcome, not that there’s anything to eat,” said Lillian.

“Maybe when I don’t smell?” Emilia hoped her face and voice showed how much she genuinely meant it.

“Yes. Lil’s a great cook. Have we mentioned that enough yet?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how all your dinner invitations involve zero cooking on your part,” said Lillian.

“I cook,” Angie said. “Pasta, bread, pizza . . .”

“If it’s a carbohydrate, she cooks it.”

“Not all of us feel the need to slaughter entire villages of vegetables every time we eat.”