Maggie’s hour of babysitting had turned into four. The child spent the end of their time together sobbing and screeching for her dad, only quieting when the sisters returned. With relief, Maggie handed Kate over to the aunt. Sam’s pickup appeared a moment later.

No one had said much since gathering at the table. Now Mom rose and went to the cupboards to collect dishware. When she began filling glasses with water, Maggie stood to help but got a “No, no, stay put.”

Aunt Wren sat with her elbows on the table, her head in her hands, as if her thoughts were too heavy to mull without some scaffolding to prop them up. Thomas’s folded hands on the table were white-knuckled. Sam, miserable-looking, shook his head at the floor. And Maggie—knowing she didn’t have anything to do with whatever had happened to bring these people together and certain the situation wasn’t any of her or Mom’s business—was about to mumble about the make-believe headache and the possibility of taking her supper to her room, when Sam said, “Thanks for watching Kate, Megan.”

“Maggie,” Mom corrected, arranging plates around the table.

“Sorry. Maggie.” He ran a hand down his daughter’s hair. “Didn’t realize it’d take me so long to accomplish nothing.”

“That’s all right,” Maggie lied, and inched into a hover above her seat. “Think I’ll—”

“Here you go.” Mom forked a helping of chicken onto Maggie’s plate. Then, just as if Maggie were Kate’s age and needed mealtime modeling, her mother smacked her lips and said encouragingly, “Yum.”

More heat flared under her skin. “Thanks.” Thanks for making me feel like an imbecile.

The aunt, still holding her head, tilted up her chin and smiled across the table. “She forgot your bib.”

Maggie sighed.

Wren leaned back in her chair. “The police have anything to say?”

Sam laughed shortly without smiling. “Oh, they know all about Linnie, but they haven’t come across her recently. Officer McPherson was nice about it—asked if I wanted to fill out a report.” He raised his hand, a helpless gesture. “I said I didn’t think so. She’s twenty-one. If an adult leaves willingly, she’s not exactly missing.”

“You checked with Jess?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah. No clue.”

Mom stacked three spring rolls on her sister’s plate and put a small, covered container next to the arrangement. “Hoisin sauce.”

The aunt gave the plate a disbelieving look. “Now she’s doing it to me.”

“Eat.” Mom slipped a folded napkin under her sister’s fork. “Any other friends she might have said something to?”

“Friends. I wouldn’t use that word to describe them.” Grudgingly, Sam added, “Except Caleb.”

Thomas smiled a little. “Caleb’s cool.”

“Caleb,” Wren repeated hopefully. “Of course. You checked with him?”

Sam nodded.

“No word?”

He shook his head.