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of them—watched her as if trying to wrap their heads around the fact that someone so different was related to them, or they watched her as if they feared she’d run off. And she would if she had any money, any prospects of getting money, or anywhere to go.
    She was stuck. Maybe people who were smarter and braver would just leave and figure it out as they went along, but being homeless and penniless sounded to her like an easy way to wind up dead.
    She
had
to get to a phone today. She left her room and walked down a large wooden staircase that groaned with every ounce of weight she put on the steps. It would be impossible to move around in this old house without the floors creaking. When she had a set plan with Cody, how was she supposed to sneak out?
    Anxious tones between some of the women caused Skylar to pause on the stairway.
    “Then I guess we need to make a trip to the bank.” Martha sounded very upbeat and singsongy. Martha was the youngest daughter and the same age as Skylar’s stepsister, Cameron, but the two were nothing alike. Cameron was tough, like sandpaper glued to old leather, and Martha was springy sweet, like wedding cake.
    “Banks aren’t open this early, Martha.” Lovina got a pancake off the griddle, opened the oven door, and set it on top of a stack of pancakes.
    “Then customers won’t get any change back. They’ll love that, right?” Susie had a whisk in hand, beating some white fluffy stuff in a bowl.
    Salome poured coffee from the percolator into a thermal carafe. “The days of living as if Ariana can step in and rescue you are gone. Grow up and think for yourself. Getting change and other errands have to be done in the afternoon as soon as the café closes.”
    “Now those are helpful tips,” Susie quipped. “Not.”
    “Things like correct change and opening on time aren’t going to matter at all if—” Salome saw Skylar and motioned. “
Kumm.
Breakfast will be ready shortly.”
    “No rush. I’m not hungry.” She wasn’t lying. She’d felt ill ever since her arrival in Amish country on Saturday. “Coffee would be nice though.” Maybe it would be better this morning.
    Salome got out a mug and poured her a cup. Skylar walked to a chair at the kitchen island. Looking at Salome was like looking into a mirror, except Salome’s eyes drooped, probably from years of weariness or unrest. And despite the pleated dress she always wore, Skylar could see that her belly sagged, probably from bearing five children. Why did she, her husband, and their children have to live here? Wasn’t this house already brimming?
    “Here you go.” Salome set the cup in front of her.
    Skylar could easily see through the light brown liquid to the bottom of her mug. “Great,” Skylar mumbled. “Canoe coffee.”
    Salome’s eyes narrowed. “What’s canoe coffee?”
    “Like floating in a canoe, this coffee is as close as one can possibly get to water.”
    Martha angled her head, looking from Skylar to the mug. “That’s how we make it at the café.”
    “Any return customers?” Skylar asked, sarcasm oozing.
    Susie tapped Martha on the shoulder and whispered to her before Martha turned to do something.
    “Sleep well?” Salome asked.
    “Sure.” That wasn’t true, but what difference did it make? Salome returned to helping the others get breakfast on the table. Skylar added cream to her coffee, hoping to give it some flavor.
    Lovina passed her a bottle of Advil, and Skylar got out two gelcaps. Watching the others move about, she tried to recall their names. She had most of the siblings straight now—at least those who lived under this roof: Abram, who was her twin, Salome, Mark, Susie, Martha, and John. It didn’t feel as if they were related to her, and they seemed as frustrated by the situation as she was. They obviously missed Ariana.
    Skylar took several deep sips of her coffee, hoping the caffeine would provide some respite.
    Isaac walked in, immediately spotting her. His eyes probed