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She squints. “Do you know the people living there?”

“Why?” I ask with faux surprise. “Have you seen anything out of the ordinary?”

She steps closer and whispers, “I swear I just saw a woman entering through a hatch in the ground, wearing a tinfoil hat.” She turns to me with wide eyes. “Am I hallucinating?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

A nervous look crosses her face. She blinks a few times, and I can’t keep from laughing.

“I’m just messing with you,” I say. “The woman you saw is called Jane and yes, she does go around wearing a tinfoil hat. She and her husband Jerry are doomsday preppers. They believe the world will end soon, and aliens will take over those living aboveground.”

She shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with laughter. “Good one, Colton.”

“I’m afraid it’s true. You’ll find out soon enough.”

She opens her mouth to say something but is cut short by Maggie’s enthusiastic screams.

“Elle!”

The front door slams open, and my sister comes running down the stairs. Elle pulls her attention away from me and the doomsday preppers at the sound of Maggie’s voice. Her face lights up when she sees my sister. As they hug, I swear I can even see some tears pooling in her eyes. The girl must be pretty happy to be back home.

“Come on, I made us breakfast,” Maggie says.

“That’s my cue to go,” I say. “You girls have fun catching up.”

Maggie puts her hand on her hip. “No way, I set the table for three.”

“No can do, sis. I’ve got to get to work.”

“But you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

I shrug. “I’m not hungry. Besides, I don’t want to be late. You know how Frank gets when his employees show up late, especially Prince Charming.”

“It’s a fifteen-minute drive, and you’ve got an hour before your shift starts. You’ll make it.”

I grunt. Maggie and her ways of making me do whatever she’s got planned. I don’t know how she does it, but I swear it’s a trait nature reserved exclusively for younger sisters.

“Didn’t you have an emergency at work?” I ask in a weak attempt to avoid her questions.

“You know me, fixed it in half an hour. Let’s go,” she says, the look in her eyes leaving me no option but to give in to her demands.

“Fine,” I say, following the girls up the steps of the house. “I’ll stay.”

It’s not that I don’t want to have breakfast with them, but eating together means having to chat and that’s something I’m not in the mood for. I don’t want Maggie to start asking questions about Julie. Her undoubtedly disappointed reaction is not something I feel like stomaching this early in the day.

I close the door behind us and make my way to the kitchen. The small round table is set with matching plates and folded napkins. I didn’t even know we had a tablecloth, but it’s right there, crisply white and ironed. She has pushed our side table next to the kitchen table, and it’s overflowing with delicious-looking treats from croissants and donuts to fruit salad and granola. Maggie went all out.

“Wow, this looks amazing,” Elle says.

I whistle. “It does. When did you do all this?”

“I didn’t really have a work emergency,” Maggie says, a pinch of embarrassment briefly crossing her face. “I just wanted to give my best friend a great welcome home breakfast.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” Elle says, pulling my sister into another hug before sitting down.

“Aren’t you glad you stayed after all?” Maggie asks me.

“You know me so well, sis,” I say as I grab a croissant.