“We can put on masks,” Imani offered, hating to add yet another negotiation to the looming one of where Ava should remain. “I have plenty of disposables.”

Nancy looked to Bill for permission. He grasped his wife’s hand and then entered the house, barely clearing the way enough for Imani to close the door behind him. “Please sit,” Imani said, heading to the junk drawer repurposed as PPE compartment.

“That’s okay.” Bill stood his ground by the exit. “I guess Ava slept here last night as it is, and we really can’t stay more than a couple minutes anyway. We have to help her pack and then head out. We don’t want to stay at a hotel given everything.”

Imani abandoned her errand to join Philip at the edge of the living room. She gave him a pointed look, silently asking permission to suggest that Ava stay with them. Melissa’s daughter was Vivienne’s best friend, after all, and she clearly didn’t want to leave their school.

If Philip understood her stare, he ignored it. “I understand about the hotels,” he said, directing his attention to Bill. “Some have rooms that share ventilation, so you can’t be—”

“We’re always happy to have Ava,” Imani interjected. Philip hadn’t asked her about taking a loan out on the house, she decided. Perhaps she didn’t need his permission for this. “She’s been friends with Vivienne since they were little, and she’s often here anyway. We could—”

“It’s best that Ava come home with us,” Nancy said, heading her off before she could get to the point. “It’s what Nate would want.”

Imani didn’t doubt that was true. Able-bodied grandparents, uncles, and aunts were the usual suspects when it came to custody, and in Ava’s case, there was only one real blood option. Melissa’s mother was in a nursing home with early onset dementia, and her father was long estranged. There was a sister in her thirties. But she’d never been married and didn’t want kids, which wasn’t a great résumé for the guardian of a teenager.

Still, Nate’s wishes were not necessarily Melissa’s. Though Imani had never before met Mr. Walker and his wife, their reputation preceded them. Melissa had griped many times about her Kentucky in-laws’ refusal to spend a single holiday in Brooklyn, always insisting that Melissa, Ava, and Nate head to their house for a “real” Christmas or Thanksgiving, one that involved cutting down their own tree, shooting their own turkey, or criticizing “Hollywood people’s” political opinions.

“Maybe Ava should stay local until we know more about Melissa,” Imani suggested. “She might come back soon, and she’d want—”

“I doubt that.”

Bill’s tone was matter-of-fact and not particularly sad. Imani stared at him, waiting for some sign that he was struggling with the idea of his daughter-in-law’s disappearance.