That afternoon, the same day, the snow had begun to melt in earnest, water dripping rhythmically from the eaves, a steady reminder that the world was moving forward whether any of them were ready or not.
Daisy sat cross-legged on her bed, a puzzle spread out in uneven clusters between her knees. She hummed quietly to herself, a tuneless little song she’d invented, while Jeremiah lay on his stomach at the foot of the bed, elbows propped up, studying a piece like it held the secrets of the universe.
“This one goes here,” he said confidently, reaching forward.
Daisy immediately slapped his hand away. “Nope.”
Jeremiah blinked. “What do you mean, nope?”
“I mean nope,” she said, placing the piece exactly where he’d been about to, except she rotated it slightly, snapping it into place with s
