Summer’s crestfallen face does nothing to affect Joy’s mood. “Oh, you’re baking now.”

“You wanted it for tonight, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. He’s asleep so now is the perfect time. I just thought we would make it together.” Summer glances at Malcolm. “Well, Joy would make it and I’d keep her company.”

Not wanting to have another eye battle with Malcolm, Joy sighs theatrically. “Go. Do your outdoorsy thing. Betty Crocker worked alone and so do I.”

Betty Crocker isn’t even a real person. Not that they know that.

“Now I really can’t leave.” Summer pouts.

“You really can.” Joy queues up her baking playlist. “Now. Get out.”

Malcolm walks around the counter and kisses Joy’s temple before he goes. “Come on, Summer.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder.

The key to making a good cake is to sing to it. Just like plants, cakes appreciate positive encouragement. It’s not long before Joy loses herself again—just her, the music, and the cake batter. Nearly forty minutes pass before she finishes weighing the last pan, making sure it has the perfect amount of batter, so each layer comes out even. She slides the cakes into the preheated oven, making sure again they’re the perfect distance apart. She closes the door, turns around, and almost jumps out of her skin.

“Fox!” she shouts. “Don’t do that! You can’t just sneak up on people in a kitchen full of knives. Make a noise or something!”

He’s standing near the island and turns her music down before saying, “You were going to stab me?”

“I was going to defend myself,” she says. “I’ve never been here before. There could be serial killers running around for all I know. That’s how it happens. That’s how they get you. Take the strangers out and no one will notice they’re missing until it’s too late.”

“You watch a lot of horror movies?”

Yes. “Maybe. You think that boat showed up today out of the kindness of their nosy hearts? They’re planning something, and I don’t think it’s some innocent party.”

“Hmm.” He sits on one of the gray stools in front of her. “We need to talk.”

“Maybe.” Joy creates a pile of her dirty dishes and walks them to the sink. “I’m still deciding if I believe you or not.”

“Because I don’t have proof?” Fox scoffs. “What would I gain from lying to you?”

“You tell me. You’re the potential lying liar.”

“Can you at least admit that it’s strange we’re both here? I had no idea you were coming. Malcolm asked Summer, then she asked me, and I couldn’t figure out why until I saw you today. She even said, ‘Maybe you can spend time with her while I’m with Malcolm.’ ”