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anymore?”
    Margaret Louise’s chin rose into the air. “For starters, yes.”
    Tori touched the grandmother of eight’s arm with a gentle, yet firm grip. “Margaret Louise, don’t . . .”
    “Why, Victoria? Leona can’t blame the cow for the milk goin’ sour.
She
did this . . . not me.”
    A steady vibrating sound somewhere off to their right brought Beatrice to her feet with a hushed apology and a much-needed break in the tension. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t realize I’d left my phone on.”
    Then, reaching into the tote bag Luke had decorated for her the previous Christmas, Beatrice retrieved the still-vibrating device from its depths, flipped it open, and held it to her ear. “Is everything okay with Luke, Mrs. Johnson?”
    Tori stole a glance in Leona’s direction as the rest of the room waited for Beatrice to complete her call, the blatant sadness on the sixtysomething’s face poorly hidden behind exasperated anger.
    “I’m at Mayor Hayes’s home for my sewing circle meeting . . . Yes, my friends are here with me now . . .”
    Tori tried to take advantage of the unexpected temporary cease-fire between Leona and everyone else to come up with a way to make things right, but it was hard. She was every bit as angry at Leona as the rest of them.
    Leona had hurt Rose, publicly humiliating their elderly friend in front of a town Rose had called home since birth. Sure, Leona could be forced to apologize to Rose for her cruelty, but the damage was already done.
    “No, Mrs. Brady hasn’t rung me up . . .”
    And judging by Rose’s face the previous night, the hurt Leona’s actions had birthed went far deeper than any simple “I’m sorry” could ever erase.
    A flash of movement snapped Tori’s attention back to Beatrice and the chair the nanny was in the process of reclaiming. “Okay, Mrs. Johnson, I’m sitting just as you asked . . .”
    Tori exchanged a curious glance with her friends only to look back in time to see the nanny’s face contort in confusion.
    “Miss Gracie? Yes, yes, of course I’ve spoken with Miss Gracie . . . Luke and I spent time with her and the Brady children at the park this afternoon. We all met there after school to play. We pushed the kids on the swings, played a few rousing rounds of Simon Says and Follow the Leader, and then made a lavish birthday cake out of sand to celebrate the arrival of the teddy bears Miss Gracie brought for Reenie, Kelley, Sophie, and even Luke.Yes, we had a wonderful day.
    “Yes, of course it is a day I will always remember with Miss Gracie . . .”
    With nary a look exchanged between them, six resolute bodies stepped forward in silent solidarity just as the muffled voice on the other end of the line grew even more muffled.
    “
Dead?
” Beatrice shrieked as she shot upward onto her feet once again. “What do you mean, Miss Gracie is—”
    Dixie’s horrified gasp echoed around the circle just before Beatrice’s phone hit the ground and five sets of arms lurched forward to keep their young friend from doing the same.

Chapter 5

    It was nearly eleven o’clock when Tori walked into her room, dropped her cell phone on her nightstand, and flopped onto her bed, exhausted. Yet even as she let her eyelids drift closed for one glorious moment, she knew sleep would elude her for hours to come.
    Beatrice’s heartbroken wail at the tragic news of Miss Gracie’s passing had known no end as Tori held her close, assured Mrs. Johnson she would see their nanny home, and even stayed beside the young woman’s bed until sleep temporarily silenced the pain.
    She’d shed countless tears herself as she returned call after call from the Johnsons’ driveway before finally heading home, each sewing sister’s voice mail–delivered concern for Beatrice only serving to highlight Leona’s silence.
    “
Why
, Leona?” she whispered as she stared up at theceiling. “
Why
do you insist on showing this awful side to everyone around