The kitchen door opened. “Morning.” Linnie kicked off her sneakers without bothering to untie them. “Sam here?”

“In the studio,” Wren said. “He came over extra early—after driving Kate to school.”

“Making up for taking off yesterday afternoon?”

“Yep.”

“Ah.”

No one seemed to have anything else to say.

Linnie gave Maggie a what’s-going-on look.

She shrugged.

Linnie turned to Mom. “So how’s it going, Mrs. Arioli?”

She answered with a distracted shake of her head. Which wasn’t much of an answer.

“What about you?” Maggie asked apologetically. Linnie had shown up, probably hoping to talk more about her half sister, and here she was receiving a cool reception. “How are you doing?” Her voice sounded loud in the quiet kitchen.

Linnie’s smile slipped. “Fine.” She retreated toward the door. “I just stopped by to chat,” she explained to Wren, “but I can always come back later, if you have things you need to take care of.”

“Don’t go,” Maggie said hastily, sitting at the table. Don’t leave me to face the sisters’ awkwardness alone. “Join us.”

“Please do.” Mom set down her brimming mug and dropped into a chair. “You might be able to help. After all, I believe you were there.”

“Where?” Linnie sat.

“Timberline Tavern.”

Understanding dawned. “Oh,” Maggie said. “There.”

Frowning, Wren poured two cups of coffee. “Timberline Tavern?”

Mom surged forward and slapped the table. “The local sports bar that refused to serve my daughter a stinkin’ Pepsi.”

Wren looked sharply at Maggie. “What?”

She sighed. “Just the bartender.”

The aunt put a mug in front of Linnie and one in front of Maggie and then sat where her own cup was waiting for her. “Why wouldn’t he wait on you, Margaret?”

Mom slapped the table again. “Because Carlton’s a shitty dump filled with assholes and fucking morons who care more about football than kindness and justice and common decency.”

Maggie’s mouth fell open. Did Mom just drop the f-bomb? On all of Carlton?

“You told me you went to Dilly’s,” Mom continued accusingly.

“We did. Afterward.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about what happened before?”

“Guess I didn’t see any point in upsetting you. No one got hurt. How did you find out?”

“Tammy McDaniel.” At Maggie’s blank look, Mom clarified, “Brown hair? Glasses?” She waved a hand: immaterial. “Tammy and her mother visit the library once a week.” Her hand landed on her forehead. “That I ended up hearing about this atrocity from an acquaintance and not my own daughter…” Tears filled her eyes. “That astonishes me.”

Linnie smoothed the tabletop with her fingertips. “But your daughter handled it. Much better than I would have.”

Maggie smiled vaguely. “Thanks, Linnie.” She was thinking about the bespectacled girl. She remembered her. She remembered her sympathy.

“Well.” Mom fell back in her chair. “That’s it for me. I’m done.”

Maggie frowned. “Done?”

“With the tavern?” Wren asked.

“With Carlton.”