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“She and Addy had a business.”

“What kind?”

“Cakes. Pies. Cinnamon rolls.”

My smile grows.

“Mae couldn't make biscuits.”

Sean looks surprised.

“You knew that?”

“She brought food to the house twice while I was pregnant. My mother wouldn't let her stay long. The second time she brought biscuits. They were terrible.”

Arthur turns halfway around.

“Maybe she improved.”

Sean looks at him.

“Road.”

“I'm not driving.”

Taylor says, “Unfortunately, I am.”

Arthur faces forward again.

I laugh.

It's small.

But it feels good.

“What else?” I ask.

Sean tells me.

He tells me Sage started helping with the baking when she was little.

That Addy wrote hundreds of letters.

That Sage was quiet in school.

That Mae died when Sage was sixteen.

That social services put her into foster care.

Then his voice changes.

I know before he says anything else that this is where the story gets worse.

“Greg found her after that.”

I stare at my hands.

“I know some of it.”