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Patty shot me an offended look. My parents began asking questions over each other. Where did he live? What did he really do for income? Had I met his parents? Had he attended college? Did he own a house? Was he religious? Had anyone run a background check?

I glared at Patty. She was crying from silent laughter.

I brought the phone closer to my mouth. “Ummm,” I said, “lo-ing con-e-ion.”

“What?” Mom asked.

“You’re breaking up,” I shouted.

“Sloane, we’re not⁠—”

“Can’t hear you. Gotta—o. B-bye.”

I ended the call, and the sudden silence overwhelmed me.

Patty was shaking, one hand pressed against her stomach.

“Why the hell did you do that?”

Patty fell to the floor, cackling.

14

HUDSON

HUDSON SAID NO. PRESERVE THE EVIDENCE.

It wasn’t even lunchtime yet, and I’d already prevented one minor flood, broken up a scuffle between some of the littles, located a missing medication bag, and explained to Trevor why installing a kiln in the detached garage without checking the electrical load was not evidence of entrepreneurial courage.

Typical day.

The unusual part came when Mason called while I was standing beside one of the Carpenter houses with one hand on the shutoff valve beneath their outdoor spigot.

“Hey,” he said. “Do you have time to help me move that old dresser from the upstairs bedroom?”

Normally, I would’ve asked when he needed me and begun rearranging my schedule before he finished answering. Instead, I paid attention to my growling stomach.

I checked the time. “Can it wait until after lunch?”

There was a brief silence on the line. Finally, Mason said, “What?”

“The dresser. Is it urgent?”

“No.”

“Then I can help you around one.”

Mason remained quiet long enough that I checked whether the call had dropped. “You’re eating lunch?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“On purpose?”

“I do that regularly.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I’ve begun a new initiative.”