He opened the door and Miss Sissy stood there glaring at them as if they’d taken their sweet time.
“Is everything okay?” he asked with concern. “Come inside and have some breakfast and coffee with us.”
That’s when Beatrice realized something must indeed be wrong, because Miss Sissy shook her head vehemently. Strands of iron-gray hair fell out of her messy bun. If Miss Sissy was turning down food, she was decidedly worried about something.
“Something’s wrong with Sylvia,” she spat out.
Beatrice frowned. “Sylvia Hutchins?” The old woman who lived next door to Summer and Harlowe was the only Sylvia she knew.
Miss Sissy nodded. “Didn’t come to get me.”
Wyatt said patiently, “So Sylvia was supposed to come by your house and pick you up for something?”
Miss Sissy nodded again, more st
