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“Sweet mercy.” Maggie rubs her forehead.

“Reporters won't stop callin’. Volunteers are nervous. Half of them don't know if they should come in today, and the other half don't want to leave.”

The concern on Maggie's face deepens. Then Jules delivers the final blow.

“And a rescue transport just arrived.”

Maggie goes completely still. “What kind?”

“Ten dogs.”

She closes her eyes. “Please tell me you're jokin’.”

“I would never joke about ten dogs.”

“I hate you.”

“That's fair.”

I already know where this conversation is heading. I also know I'm not going to like it.

Maggie ends the call with Jules and keeps the phone in her hand, her fingers wrapped around it while she stares at the counter as if the answer might appear somewhere between the coffee mug and Mrs. Bennett’s stack of folded napkins. I know that look. She’s already made up her mind, which means the conversation that follows won’t be simple.

“I’m going to the shelter,” she says.

I push away from the table and rise to my feet. “No.”

Her head lifts slowly. The color in her cheeks rises before she says a word, and from across the table, Ivy pauses with her fork halfway to her mouth. Maggie notices Ivy watching and lowers her voice, though every bit of her frustration remains in it.

“The shelter is overwhelmed, Alexei.”

“I heard.”

“Then you heard the part where ten dogs just arrived and Jules is tryin’ to manage reporters, donations, frightened volunteers, and a rescue intake all at once.”

“I heard that too.”

“Then you know why I have to go.”

“No, I know why you want to go.”

Her eyes narrow, and the kitchen feels too small for both of us. Mrs. Bennett busies herself at the stove, giving us space without truly leaving. Ivy looks between Maggie and me, her eyes wide.

Maggie follows my line of sight to Ivy and reins in her temper. She walks to my daughter’s chair and crouches next to her. “Sweetheart, I’m just talkin’ to your daddy.”

Ivy studies her face. “Are you leaving?”

The question steals the force from Maggie’s argument, and I see the exact moment guilt reaches her.

“Only for a little while,” Maggie says carefully. “Jules needs help at the shelter.”

Ivy’s fork drops against her plate. “I want to go too.”

“No,” I say at once.

Maggie’s eyes return to mine, but this time she doesn’t argue.

“You’ll stay here with Mrs. Bennett,” I tell her.