“I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s shallow but slippery. One wrong step, and you’ll fall and bust your tail. Amy and I would go fly-fishing in the creek on Sundays. I fell once. Doctor said I’d broken my coccyx. We were both too embarrassed to ask what that was, so we googled it when we got home.” He laughed, but just barely. “Truth is, she was the real fisherman. I just keep all this fish stuff around ’cause she’d kill me if she knew I’d taken it down.”

“I’m the same,” Zadie said. “I still drag our mom’s old cassette collection around with me.”

“Oh, yeah…” he started thoughtfully. “She was a good singer, wasn’t she? I remember her walking around the house singing to herself.”

“Yeah, she performed onstage sometimes.”

“That’s right. She mentioned that.”

“So she did remember some things?”

“Some. Amy would know better. The two of them were always talking. I— Well, I mostly keep to myself, as you can see.”

Their mom must have sat on this porch, Finn thought. She searched for a memory of hers, some sign that she’d been there, but felt nothing. “She didn’t remember us, did she?” she asked.

Myron hesitated and looked down at the beer in his hand. “She didn’t say she had kids.”

Finn hadn’t expected him to say yes, but the truth still stung.

In an effort to change the subject, Zadie asked, “Did she ever black out?”

Myron thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “No, I can’t say I remember her blacking out. Although … Amy said she would do this thing sometimes. They’d be standing around talking, then Amy would turn away, and when she turned back around, Wren—sorry, Nora—was gone. A lot of times, she’d find her outside just staring up at the sky.”

“Did she ask her what she was doing?”

“Uhh … I think she said she was looking at the birds? I’m not sure. We were worried. We tried again to get her to go to the doctor, but she wasn’t having it. Then one day she just left. Never came back.” His expression was apologetic. “If I’d known she had kids…”

“It’s not your fault,” Finn said. “She couldn’t control it.”

He looked at her curiously. “Control what?”

Finn glanced over at her sister, who gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. She ignored her warning and continued, “Our mom was different.”

“Different how?” he said, eyes narrowing from either curiosity or suspicion, she couldn’t tell.

“She wasn’t like other people. Like your girls—” Realizing the mistake she’d made, she stopped short.

Myron’s guard was up. “What about my girls?”

Finn faltered, so Zadie went on defense. “She just means that our mom was kind of eccentric. That’s all.”