After we left the historical society with the promise to keep Xzanthia updated on anything new we’d learned, Santiago went back to his office, and Mika and I walked back to her shop. It was almost closing time, so I spent the next bit helping wind up the last of the unraveled skeins. Then, all three of us walked out together at the end of the business day.
Mrs. Stephenson was headed home to a dinner of fried chicken and mashed potatoes, she told us. “My husband doesn’t cook that often, but when he does, it’s a meal worth getting excited about.” She grinned as she climbed into her car, and then Mika walked me to mine.
“You sure you don’t mind me coming along tonight? I know it’s your usual night with your boys,” she asked.
“No, please come. The day has been hard for all of us, and it’ll
