I held out a hand for a high-five. “That’s awesome! Proud of how hard you studied.” I turned my attention to Will.

He only rolled his eyes a little bit. “Mr. Harmon was sick yesterday, and we got to watch a movie during history.”

I broke off a piece of my toast. “That definitely qualifies as a good thing. And what about you, Miss Mia?”

She beamed. “Coach Hughes wants me to practice with the big kids next week!”

I straightened in my chair, letting the piece of toast fall from my fingers. “She does? Why didn’t she talk to me?” I was going to kill that woman.

Mia shrugged. “She said she was going to talk to you today.”

I did everything I could to make sure my siblings got to do whatever activities their hearts’ desired. And pretty much from the time Mia could speak, she had been asking for gymnastics. I’d put her in a pre-K tumbling class when she was four, and Mia had taken to it like a fish to water. The coach of the program had told me that Mia had real potential. But elite gymnastics programs, even the one on our tiny chain of islands, were expensive.

It was nearly killing me to send her three times a week. If she started the elite program, that three would jump to five. I wasn’t sure I could swing it. All I could think about was the letter I’d received from our landlord the day before about our rent increase. That would be hard enough, but adding gymnastics on top of that? It would most likely be impossible. And there went any chance at the culinary class I’d had my eye on for the past few months.

“I can do it, right?” she asked.

I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat. “Let me talk to Coach, and we’ll see.”

“Okay.” Mia smiled in a way that said she had all the faith in the world in me. It was a smile that socked me right in the gut. And I knew I’d simply have to find a way. Maybe I could look into selling a kidney on the black market.

“Nope, nope, nope.” Kenna waved her hands in front of her face. “Don’t open that within a twenty-foot radius of me.”

I slowly put the packet of bacon back into the fridge under the counter. “I thought you were loving bacon lately.”

Kenna’s hand went to the small curve of her belly. “Something changed this week. It’s so bizarre. Now, I can’t stand the smell of it. It has me puking my guts up in seconds.”

Bell scrunched up her face as she slid onto a stool opposite us at my kitchen station. “Thanks for that mental picture right before we eat lunch.”

Kenna shrugged. “I figure you’d rather have the warning than me barfing in your purse.”