“For going along with Charlotte’s plan to speak to the Courts? No. How could you be expected to say no?”

“It wasn’t her plan. It was our plan.”

Auntie Bea ignored him. “For shielding her? How could you know any better?”

“Charlie doesn’t make my decisions for me.”

“I’m sure that’s what you think.” She held up a hand before he could respond, the double strand of green-and-yellow yarn looped around her fingers drawing Jack’s gaze. “Given the circumstances, you can’t think clearly with Charlotte near.”

Okay, maybe he was a little distracted every time she touched him, or was in the same room, or breathed the same air, but . . .

“And given that she’s feeling everything you are and acting as the responsible party, she’s not thinking clearly at all.”

He supposed that was fair, but . . .

“No one ever wants to see family go through this kind of thing.”

Well, duh, but . . .

“Fortunately, you’re young enough you can . . .”

“Jack!”

Allie’s voice seemed to come from very far away.

“Look away from her hand.”

Her hand? Was there a hand behind the yellow and green?

“Now, Jack!”

Eyes watering, he jerked back.

“I can’t believe you even attempted that!”

Jack had never heard Allie so angry. One of Graham’s shirts had begun unweaving itself in her hands, threads wafting to the floor and reassembling into a pale blue doll with white button eyes. “Attempted what?” he demanded. That was one freaky doll.

“The yarn was a charm,” Allie told him, eyes locked on Auntie Bea. “She was getting into your head. It sounded like she was trying to bury your feelings for Charlie.”

“Why not? They’ll never be acted on. Charlotte has her faults, we all know that, but that’s a line she’d never cross. He’ll be significantly better off without them. We need clear heads if we’re going to survive the impact.”

His head slammed into the ceiling.

“Jack!”

“Sorry.” He hadn’t realized he’d changed. Back in skin, he helped Allie up, frantically patting at her smoldering clothes. “Are you okay? Please be okay!”

“Hey.” She grabbed his face, her hands cool against his jaw. “You haven’t raised so much as a blister on me since you’ve been here. I’m fine. You startled me, that’s all.”

“I’ve burned Charlie.”

“You and Charlie have a different relationship.”

“They don’t have a relationship at all and they never will. Charlotte realizes that, and he’s too young to know what he wants.”

“He’s standing right here!” Only Allie’s touch kept him from changing again. “You can’t just do something like that!”

“Oh, can’t I?” Auntie Bea set the afghan aside and stood. “He’s a Gale and the family comes first. For the family’s sake I can . . .”

“The Ride of the Valkyries” rang out from Charlie’s phone where Jack had tossed it on the coffee table. From Allie’s phone on the kitchen counter. From Auntie Bea’s phone in her knitting bag.