Rudie was digging her thumb into the plastic paper towel wrapper when the knock came. They were early. She hadn’t told Kikka about Barth and Hannah: she had hoped to bundle her mother out of the house on an errand or back to Toronto before she had to leave for the airport, but here they were. She hustled into the foyer. Her socks slipped and snagged, slowing her down. Kikka stepped on the top stair, asking, “Who is it?”
Rudie replied, “How should I know?” without thinking because she did know. She bounded up, held out the paper towel roll and, with a hand on Kikka’s arm, urged her to head back to Roselore’s room and clean.
Kikka lingered a moment then took the hint. A first, thought Rudie.
The door had a leaded-glass window that revealed one shadow, not two. Maybe Barth had come to t
