Maggie swallowed her disappointment. She couldn’t ask her aunt to help her with Jane’s situation, at least not immediately. “Finishing the sculpture?”

Wren gazed at her bleakly. “And calling your mom.” She took a step into the studio. “My truck keys are on the kitchen counter. Thanks for telling Sam.” She shut the door behind her.

Calling my mom? Maggie stared at the closed door.

Frustrated and confused, she trudged into the kitchen. Maybe she should talk to Sam about Jane. He was smart. He’d probably have some good advice.

But he didn’t. Or rather, he might have, but Maggie decided not to ask for it. He looked about as approachable as Wren had.

The Blakes’ garage door was up. Sam stood outside, but he was facing the house and shouting something—at Kate, Maggie realized. The girl stood in the garage. Maggie rolled down the truck window and heard him say, “… and catch a cold? Jeez. Get back inside. Right now!”

His daughter ignored him. Maggie’s arrival had caught Kate’s unhappy attention. She crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue at Maggie. Then she bared her teeth. Then she stuck out her tongue again.

“Yikes.” Warily eyeing the girl, Maggie stayed in the aunt’s truck and waited for Sam to walk over.

After she passed along Wren’s message, he nodded. “Dad will be relieved. I can drive Kate for a change.” He turned and shouted, “Go get your coat and backpack! I’m taking you to school.”

“No!” Kate flew to the outer edge of the concrete floor, punched the air, and stamped her foot. “It’s a snow day.”

“No, it’s not,” Sam growled. “Hurry up.”

“Mom said.”

“Your mother doesn’t decide if it’s a snow day. The superintendent does.”

“Mom is super. She said we could make a snowman today. I am not going to school. And I hate you!”

He turned slowly, hissing an exhalation. “Linnie decided Kate needs a mental-health day,” he told Maggie in a low mutter. “Jesus Christ, that woman’s making my life difficult.” He flared his eyes at the sky. “Thanks for driving over, Megan. Catch you later.”

She didn’t bother correcting her name. Making his way toward the house, he looked defeated, his head lowered and back bent. In the garage, he tried to take Kate’s arm. She shook him off, her glare on Maggie. Sam waved a hand over his head, an explosive I-give-up motion, and stomped into the house. Kate stayed where she was, a belligerent sentinel.

“I’m not trying to breach the castle walls, little girl,” Maggie said under her breath, and put the truck in reverse.