When Mom and Dad arrived, I could tell that there’d been an Issue. My mom’s ponytail was all frazzled and my dad’s jaw was clenched. Jade had to leave for the movie theater. Dad went to check how the new door at Eagle’s Nest was holding up and Mom practically fell onto the couch.

“We need food,” said Mom. “Pizza or Chinese?”

“Pizza,” I said. How’s Blair? It was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t ask it. I wanted to pretend they’d been somewhere else all day. Or maybe visiting Blair at the Joffrey, not Harvest Hills.

She pulled out her phone to order pizza from the delivery app. “What did you do today?”

“Nothing. Library.” How’s Blair? How’s Blair? How’s Blair?

“Pepperoni or sausage? Both?”

“Whatever, Mom. I don’t care,” I snapped.

“Geez, Abby, cut me some slack. I’m just trying to feed you here. I had a long, crappy day. Go easy on me.”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

Mom typed for a minute more, then set the phone down and put a hand over her eyes. We sat in silence.

“We’re trying to figure out a transition plan,” she said. “For when Blair comes home. What she’ll do all year. She was supposed to be at—well, college. Or something.” She was supposed to be at the Joffrey. We had all thought so. We thought we’d be picking out hotels in New York City, not figuring out transition plans.

“Is she going to live here?”

“Of course,” said Mom. “Of course. This is her home. But there are so many things to be considered. Therapy. Breaking habits. What she’ll do for work . . . if she can work. She can’t sit around here all day. She’ll go crazy.”

“Well, she’ll have ballet,” I said. “That’ll fill a lot of her time. Right?”

Mom took her hand off her eyes and stared at me like I had just suggested she take up unicorn training. “Abby. Blair’s done with ballet.”

Done? That was like saying the Earth was done spinning. Blair was made to dance.

Destiny, she’d said, placing her feet in her arch stretcher that looked like a torture device, not even wincing. It’s my destiny.

“We’ll figure it out. Don’t you worry,” said Mom. “We’ve got this. Hey. You okay?”

I stood up and yawned. “Tired.”

“Go lie down until the pizza’s here. This weather makes everyone sleepy.”

The rain didn’t let up. Every day there was more and more, leaving Dad running around patching leaks and Mom trying to find things for tourists to do inside, like the Moose Junction History Museum. Woohoo, come on in and see the largest musky ever caught in Fishtrap Lake! The gloves that might have belonged to the first settler who stumbled upon Musky River! Not exactly earth-shattering stuff, but Dad always said Mom could sell honey to bees. The only people who were happy were the fishermen, who insisted pike always bit more when it rained.

I went to the library most days, working my way through the fantasy series and gossiping with Harriet. I read and read and read; it was too cloudy to even use my telescope.