By the time they’d finished unloading the truck, Zadie heard excited whispers coming from the woods. When the Van Houten girls stepped out of the trees to find their dad glowering at them, their chatter swiftly abated.

“Juniper, I wasn’t joking when I said you have chores to do.”

“I know, but—”

“Why can’t you just do what I ask you to do, instead of turning it into an argument every time?”

“But, Dad! We talked to Mo—” Rowan shot her sister a warning look, and Juniper bit her lip. Zadie thought she saw the girl trembling—from fear? Excitement? It was hard to tell.

Myron’s face was hard. “Hazel, take Juniper inside. I need to talk to Rowan.”

Hazel and Juniper scurried away, ostensibly grateful not to have to face what was likely about to be an unpleasant conversation. Finn quietly excused herself as well and made her way toward the barn. Zadie was about to do the same when she remembered her phone was still in the truck.

Myron trained his eyes on his daughter. “Were you talking to that tree again?”

“That tree?” she snapped. “She has a name.”

“Just answer me.”

Rowan’s eyes glistened. “It’s her, Dad! She wasn’t in the maple, she was in the pine, the one she used to sit on. I talked to her. We all did.”

As quietly as she could, Zadie stepped up into the cab of the truck, but her phone wasn’t on the seat where she’d left it.

Myron closed his eyes and threaded his fingers behind his neck. “Dr. Mallick—”

“Dr. Mallick doesn’t know anything.”

“She said you need to grieve, honey.”

“Why would I need to grieve? She’s right there!” Rowan pointed accusingly up the hillside. “It was her, Dad! How else would she know that Mom’s favorite ice cream was cookie dough?”

“Rowan—”

“Or that she used her fingers to wet envelopes because she was scared of getting a paper cut on her tongue?”

“Rowan, please—”

Zadie’s phone must have slid under the seat. She felt around on the floor for it, trying unsuccessfully not to eavesdrop.

“She said to tell you that she misses you and that she wants to see you—”

“That’s enough!” Myron’s cry was simultaneously formidable and heartbreaking. I shouldn’t be hearing this. Zadie stilled herself, hoping to fool Myron into thinking she’d already left.

She barely heard his next words, but somehow they felt louder than anything else he’d said. “It’s not your mom, Rowan. It’s a tree.”

Hurried footsteps. A door slammed.

The truck rocked slightly as Myron sat down on the tailgate. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, he said, “I’m guessing you heard all of that?”

Zadie tentatively angled her head toward the open back window. “Yeah.”

“If anyone ever found out about them—”

“I won’t say anything. I promise.”

More silence.