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depths of his dreams, losing his mother, too.
    â€œI’m making supper,” he said evenly, “because I can.”
    Hannah closed her eyes, opened them again.
    â€œSet the table, please,” Doss told Tobias.
    Tobias hurried to the cabinet for plates and silverware.
    Hannah met Doss’s gaze across the dimly lit room.
    A charge seemed to pass between them, like before, when Hannah had come back from getting the mail and found Tobias outside, in the teeth of a high-country winter, building a snow fort.
    â€œIt’s too damn dark in this house,” Doss said. He walked to the middle of the room, reached up, and pulled the beaded metal cord on the overhead light. The bare bulb glowed so brightly it made Hannah blink, but she didn’t object.
    Something in Doss’s face prevented her from it.
    Present Day
    Travis had long since finished his coffee and left the house by the time Liam got up from his nap and came downstairs, tousle-haired and puffy-eyed from sleep.
    â€œThat boy was in my room again,” he said. “He was sitting at the desk, writing a letter. Can I watch TV? There’s a nice HD setup in that room next to the front door. A computer, too, with a big, flat-screen monitor.”
    Sierra knew about the fancy electronics, since she’d explored the house after Travis left. “You can watch TV for an hour,” she said. “Hands off the computer, though. It doesn’t belong to us.”
    Liam’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I know how to use a computer, Mom,” he said. “We had them at school.”
    Between rent, food and medical bills, Sierra had never been able to scrape together the money for a PC of their own. She’d used the one in the office of the bar she worked in, back in Florida. That was how Meg had first contacted her. “We’ll get one,” she said, “as soon as I find another job.”
    â€œMy mailbox is probably full,” Liam replied, unappeased. “All the kids in the Geek Program were going to write to me.”
    Sierra, in the midst of putting a package of frozen chicken breasts into the microwave to thaw, felt as though she’d been poked with a sharp stick. “Don’t call it the Geek Program, please,” she said.
    Liam shrugged one shoulder. “Everybody else does.”
    â€œGo watch TV.”
    He went.
    A rap sounded at the back door, and Sierra peered through the glass, since it was dark out, to see Travis standing on the back porch.
    â€œCome in,” she called, and headed for the sink to wash her hands.
    Travis entered, carrying a fragrant bag of take-out food in one hand. The collar of his coat was raised against the cold, his hat brim pulled low over his eyes.
    â€œFried chicken,” he said, lifting the bag as evidence.
    Sierra paused, shut off the faucet, dried her hands. The timer on the microwave dinged. “I was about to cook,” she said.
    Travis grinned. “Good thing I got to you in time,” he answered. “If you’re anything like your sister, you shouldn’t be allowed to get near a stove.”
    If you’re anything like your sister.
    The words saddened Sierra, settled bleak and heavy over her heart. She didn’t know whether she was like her sister or not; until Meg had e-mailed her a smiling picture a few weeks ago, she wouldn’t have recognized her on the street.
    â€œDid I say something wrong?” Travis asked.
    â€œNo,” Sierra said quickly. “It was—thoughtful of you to bring the chicken.”
    Liam must have heard Travis’s voice, because he came pounding into the room, all smiles.
    â€œHey, Travis,” he said.
    â€œHey, cowpoke,” Travis replied.
    â€œThe computer’s making a dinging noise,” Liam reported.
    Travis smiled, set the bag of chicken on the counter but made no move to take off his hat and coat. “Meg’s got it set to do that, so she’ll remember to check