Kaye couldn’t stop spying on them. They made pancakes together on Sunday morning, and stayed up late playing board games and cards. It was like a Christmas special on TV.

They seemed to be the only ones in town having a good time these days. Things had gotten so ugly. Anonymous notes and toilet-papered trees were becoming a daily thing. Even the playground had scars. Someone had scrawled “Fuck the tree huggers” in shiny blue spray paint down the slide. Pro-moratorium neighbors crossed to the other side of the street when they saw her or Nick coming, and she didn’t even want to think about the nasty letters in the town newsletter this week. People acted like Nick just woke up one morning, went over to Suzanne and Grant’s, and said, “Hey, let’s rip up your house!” Maybe he’d been a little overenthusiastic, but that poor little Adam had such bad headaches.

When Kaye was growing up, her father used to say: never let the sun set on your anger. Wouldn’t he be disappointed? The sun had set on the anger in Willard Park for so many nights now. Kaye was good at bringing people together. She’d gotten an award for being the friendliest girl in her class at Live Oak High: Sweetest Senior, they called it; she still had the little bottle of perfume they gave as a prize. Maybe that was God’s plan for her. To bring the town back together. She might as well start with the Millers.

“Okay, you-all,” she called upstairs. “Let’s get out there and do some shoveling.”

No one responded. She went to Jakey’s room and turned off the TV.

“Hey!” he cried.

“Come shovel,” she said. “You can wear your new jacket! Don’t you want to get out in the snow?” She knocked on Lindy’s door. When no one answered, she opened it. “Come—” she started, but Lindy wasn’t there. Hadn’t she come up to do homework? Wasn’t that why she couldn’t help with the dishes? She’d probably snuck off to watch TV somewhere. “I’m warning you, Lindy,” she called, closing the window by her bed. An open window in winter. For goodness’ sake.

Kaye went down to the mud room for her winter things. She loved winter things, puffy coats and fuzzy gloves, things she’d only seen in movies when she was growing up. She put on a down coat as light and airy as a meringue.