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leather jacket, working on a two-day beard and hair only half as long as her own. She stepped back, clearly surprised.
    He smiled at her. “I’m Adam,” he told her and extended his hand.
    Ms. Winslow hesitated only a moment before shaking it. Her hands were small, soft, and clean. He finally placed the scent: Lavender.
    “You’re… Ava’s… brother?” she asked. Her eyebrows knitted together.
    Adam wondered just how much time this woman had spent with his kid sister, because though Ava was blonde, she was a Stark through and through. How surprised could Ms. Winslow be by the leather and tattoos? Or maybe she thought he was too old. At thirty-five, he supposed if one of the Trojans had broken during one of his backseat escapades, he could pass for Ava’s father, though he’d probably be standing here for a lot worse reasons that truancy if he’d actually been the one to raise her. God knew he didn’t know enough about kids to do the job right. How he’d come out of his own childhood unscathed considering what he’d put Mom and Pop through, he’d never know. You had to have patience to raise kids. You had to have the patience of a saint to raise a Stark.
    “Come in. Have a seat,” she said, recovering quickly. Adam expected her to leave the office door open, or at least to consider it, but she shut it swiftly without a moment’s hesitation. Apparently, Calla Winslow lived dangerously.
    As she rounded her desk to her own chair, her features softened into a sympathetic frown. Adam had seen the look on dozens of people in the last few days. He was becoming slightly resentful at this point, but on Calla Winslow it looked so genuine, so heart-felt that he couldn’t find it within himself to be irritated with her.
    “I’m so sorry about your mother,” she said quietly. “Was she ill for a long time? Was Ava possibly missing class because of it?”
    Adam shifted in his chair and shook his head. “No. Mom’s cancer came on suddenly. Or rather, it had been spreading for a while, years maybe, but we didn’t know.”
    Calla nodded and leaned back. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. Then, “One of Ava’s teachers complained to me that she’d stopped attending her class. I checked the attendance record and found the discrepancy.” She took a seat in her chair and picked up some paperwork. She glanced down at it then looked at Adam across the desk. “Do you know what Ava might be doing instead of attending class?”
    Adam leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “No. Other than hanging out with Sienna, I don’t think she’d be anywhere. And you said Sienna never left school.”
    “True. Sienna’s been changing the official record, but Sienna herself hasn’t left school grounds, at least not that I’ve been able to confirm. I take it Ava doesn’t have friends other than Sienna, that you know of?”
    Adam scowled and spread his hands over the arms of the chair. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted. “Dalton—that’s my younger brother, or my middle brother—wouldn’t really know either. My youngest brother is Jonah Stark. Do you know Jonah? He graduated last May. ”
    Calla shook her head. “No. I’m afraid I don’t. I just moved here this year.”
    “Anyway, Dalton and I were grown and out of the house when Mom and Pop adopted Ava. Then they took in Jonah a few years later as a foster kid and adopted him, too.” He rubbed his face. For the first time since he could remember, he felt embarrassed. He pictured Ava, wild blond hair, determined jaw, racing full speed ahead with a semi-wild abandon. He knew how she was but not who she was. “Dalton and I don’t— I ,” he corrected because his own behavior was on him, “don’t know them as well as I probably should. We’re not that close.”
    “I see.”
    Adam bristled. He was ashamed and he hated that feeling. “I love them,” he said defensively. “I’d die for them, do anything for them. They’re my family .” Despite his