Amos was one hundred percent right about the cafeteria cake. Maren had a hard time not shoving her face straight into the monstrous slice of dense chocolate spackled together with whipped cream and cherries. She wasn’t sure if it appeased her hunger or her guilt more, but either way, she felt better.

“Did you hear about Maisie Mae’s?” said Amos, who was working on his second slice of cloudlike coconut cake. His hair was longer than it used to be, curling around his ears and corkscrewing over his forehead.

“No, what happened?”

“All the ice cream melted last night. The freezer seems to be working fine, and nobody can figure out what happened.” Amos shoveled a hunk of cake into his mouth and continued talking around it. “They’re going to have to close for like a week while they make everything from scratch all over again.”

First the grocery store, then the ice cream shop. And Hallie wasn’t waking up. Maren wondered how she’d ever thought Rockpool Bay was full of luck today.

“How’s your sister?” asked Amos.

Maren’s chocolate cake turned to paste in her throat. “They said she smiled and laughed for a second, so I rushed here.” She set down her fork and blinked hard at the table so Amos wouldn’t see the tears. “I really thought she was waking up. But I’ve been staring at her face for like three hours now, and she hasn’t moved an inch, and I feel like I just can’t be patient anymore. I want to scream.”

“That’s a good sign that she did all that stuff, though, right?” said Amos.

“It is.” Maren stabbed her fork into a lump of frosting. “But they’re going to transfer her to this faraway long-term-care facility in nine days. It really hurts to keep hoping.”

Amos chewed for a long time, then took a gulp of his milk. “This is my grandpa’s third heart attack. Every time it happens, I keep thinking this is it; he’s going to die, but then he doesn’t. The thing is, he’s forgetting more stuff every time it happens.” Amos’s eyes flicked to Maren’s and they were a little watery, too. “It’s sort of like the opposite of hope.”

“I’m sorry,” said Maren.

Amos mashed his cake into a flat pancake. “I just wish I wasn’t the only one visiting him all the time. I’m scared he’s going to die while I’m here and I won’t know what to do.”