“We have to stick together, Val,” he added, looking at me without blinking.

“Especially right now.”

By eight thirty the dining room smelled of melted butter, cinnamon, and baked sugar.

Colleen sat at the head of the long oak table in a pressed gray cardigan, sliding a hot plate of fresh cinnamon rolls right in front of Sadie.

“Have two of these, sweetie,” Colleen said, her sharp features melting into a showy, motherly smile as she turned her silver charm bracelet round and round her wrist.

“You hardly touched your dinner last night.”