knew, because Gentry had described her as “flame-haired and fair.” Nobody had had the sense to put the girl in a hat when she was little, and she was freckled all across her cheeks and down to her décolletage. She was taller than Gentry by several inches, at least five eleven. I’d imagined her as a delicate Arthurian princess, but she was solid, with a broad, nervous smile. Trying hard to be polite, but the kind of girl who puts on her good manners like clean, white church gloves. Not the sort of thing you wear all the time.
Because we had guests, I made dinner milder than usual. So many kids weren’t used to eating anything but chicken nuggets, and Marcus did pick out and eat some chicken and potatoes, but most of his dinner was the cheese toast I served on the side. Zee, I got the impression, would have eaten anything I put in front of her, to be polite. The only way to tell she didn’t care for it was that she turned down seconds.
Gentry of course didn’t. As he was coming back to the table with his and Trang’s bowls, Elana whispered to him, “You said her hair was pretty.”
Gentry hesitated, setting the bowls down before he answered her: “’Tis.”
“’Tis not.”
“Elana. We do not talk about our guests.” I gave her a warning look, but the little sass box ignored me.
“’Tis not,” she said.
Gentry sat down and picked up his spoon. Then he put it back down.
“Sister, thou shalt make me wroth if thou art uncourteous to Lady Zhorzha,” he said.
“It’s okay,” Zee said.
“He said your hair was red, but it’s orange,” Elana said.
“It’s from eating too many carrots.” Zee reached over and took a chunk of carrot out of Elana’s bowl and ate it. That made Elana giggle. Gentry smiled, and then Elana couldn’t decide whether she liked Zee or was jealous.
We usually watched a little TV before Elana’s bedtime, but there was an immediate problem when Zee sat on the couch next to Marcus, and Gentry sat on the floor in front of her. I could tell the whole day was wearing on him, because as soon as he sat down, he started stimming. One hand at first, scratching his neck. Then after a few minutes, both hands scratching his shoulders, so that his arms were pressed up near his ears with his elbows pointed up.
“Does your back itch?” Zee said. “I can scratch it for you. If you want.”
I thought it would go nowhere. Sometimes he went so far away when he was stimming that it was hard to get him back. After a few minutes, though, he nodded and scooted back far enough that he could have leaned against her legs.
Zee started scratching his shoulders, just below the seams of his T-shirt. I couldn’t see the look on his face, but Bill and Trang were both looking at him. They glanced at each other, then at me. I gave a very small shrug, because I didn’t want Zee to notice that we were all watching and waiting to see what would happen.
“That’s not fair! Why does she get to scratch your back?” Elana said, and that put an end to that. Zee jerked her hands back, and Gentry jumped up.
“Child, it must be your bedtime,” I said. “Why don’t you boys go to bed, too?”
Elana put up some crying and fussing, but I finally got her down to sleep. Coming back past Trang and Gentry’s room, the light was off, but I could hear them talking. Swords and armor? Or love and ladies? It was always one or the other with them.
Bill had turned over to the news, and that’s what we were watching when Zee came back from putting Marcus to bed. She sat down to watch with us, but it was only a few minutes before the news cycle came back around to the situation at the prison. Bill reached for the remote.
“No, it’s okay,” Zee said. “I feel a little better seeing her. It lets me think she’s maybe okay.”
“I’m sure she is,” I said. “You both seem like strong girls.”
We watched, but there was nothing new to the story. Manhunt continues, that was the sum total of it.
“Would you like a little wine? I thought I might have a glass before bed,” I offered.
That was how I lured her into the dining room, with a glass of that cheap sparkling peach wine I liked. She didn’t seem like