They lock eyes. Then the phone starts ringing in the kitchen, and Nicki storms out of the room, her shoes clacking against the floor. Finn yanks off the covers and follows her into the kitchen, leaning against the counter in her T-shirt and underwear while Nicki listens on the phone. The rest of the house is quiet – Finn imagines the twins and pseudo-Kate upstairs sleeping off their bender, the boys, who Shawn left sleeping here last night, playing somewhere outside, Hamish in his shed playing with his new parts. Meanwhile Finn and Nicki stand with nothing but three feet of linoleum and a phone call keeping them from just going ahead and killing each other.

Nicki slams down the phone without saying a word to the person on the other end, then continues to stare at it, as though it might come to life and attack her. “That was the hospital,” she says, still watching the phone warily. “The security footage they pulled from the loading bay shows Mom leaving the hospital yesterday with a teenaged girl at 4:37 p.m. They said it shows them driving away in a green Volvo.”

“Wait, what?”

Nicki goes over to the kitchen window. Finn joins her, and together they do a mental check: Nicki’s Civic. Shawn’s Jeep, with a crushed right fender. Hamish’s Chevy, with the trailer still attached. Walter’s truck is with him, wherever the hell that is. Also gone: Kate’s Volvo.

Finn puts her hand on Nicki’s back. How is it that despite everything, she still feels the need to comfort her sister? “Hey,” she says. “We’ll find them. It’ll be okay.”

Nicki tightens up, shrugging Finn’s hand off her back. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she says through gritted teeth.

Finn’s jaw tightens. “You were just bitching that no one ever helps you,” she says, through her own now gritted teeth. Nicki turns away from the window, starts gathering up her stuff – keys, wallet, lipstick – and shoving it in her purse. “Nicki, look at me,” says Finn. Nicki ignores her, keeping her eyes stubbornly averted as she picks up her phone and begins scrolling through her contacts. Finally, Finn grabs her arm. “Nicki!”

Nicki wrenches her arm free. “You think you can just sweep in here like some kind of superhero and save us all? No one trusts you, Finn! When things get tough, you run.”

Finn steps back, reeling. She takes a breath. “I’m not going anywhere, Nicki. I’m here, okay? I’m here until we get things back to normal.”

Shaking her head, Nicki puts down her purse and sits at the kitchen table. “That’s what you don’t fucking get, Finn,” she says. “This is normal.” With a resigned sigh, she starts phoning her clients to cancel the day’s appointments.