Gretchen’s face flushed with instant irritation, and her mouth fell open before she snapped it shut into a thin, bitter line.

“Well, I suppose that settles it, then, doesn’t it?” Gretchen said, folding her arms over her chest in theatrical defiance.

“Yes, it most certainly does,” I agreed.

“Then you can count me out as your free babysitter, Claire, because I definitely won’t be moving into this house to help you,” Gretchen announced proudly.

Peter whirled around on the bottom step and stared at his mother with pure panic in his eyes.

“Mom, please, you can’t just abandon us right when Claire’s supposed to go back to work,” Peter begged, his voice cracking with desperation.