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“Do you know when the wedding is?” He stares at me, squinting like he’s trying to read my mind. “You do, don’t you?”

“Next Saturday.”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “Of course you already know.”

“I’m Margo Blakely, after all.”

“What about your concert? It’s on Friday,” he says. “Won’t you be tired?”

I’m not about to miss either event. I don’t care how tired it makes me, I’m going to both. “Nope. I’ll be okay.”

His mouth twists to the side and his brow furrows like he doesn’t believe me. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“I promise.”

His face relaxes. “Okay.”

“So we’re going?” I ask.

He nods. “We’re going.”

I reach over and grab his hand as my heart leaps. I hope finding his dad is what he needs to feel whole. Who knows, maybe that’s where he belongs.

As soon as I get home, I start searching for clues to piece together the location of the wedding. It’s easier to find than Ithought. After about an hour I had found a post of the fiancée posing in front of a beautiful ballroom with a caption that read, “I can’t wait to marry you here.” She tagged the location. To my surprise it’s a place here, not Seattle.

It couldn’t have been any easier.

I was a little disappointed that I didn’t have to look very hard. I like puzzles. The type with five-hundred-plus pieces. This was more like a four-piece puzzle meant for a toddler.

Still, I found it. Now, I know the time and the place.

By the time Monday rolls around, I have to force myself to get out of bed. I want to stay curled up in my bedsheets forever, but I don’t want to waste the day.

“Will you do my hair?” Annie asks.

How can I say no to that? It’s one of my favorite hobbies. I love her long hair. It’s beautiful no matter what she does to it. If she’d let me, I’d style it every day.

Annie sits near the vanity and waits. She’s already dressed in a pastel pink sweater and light jeans. In her lap is her latest book obsession. She cracks it open as I start to brush her long locks.

“What do you want me to do today?”

Annie shrugs. “You’re the boss.”

I normally style her hair in braids because it’s easy, but I feel the urge to try something different. I gather the top of her hair and pull it back into a ponytail, and then I spray her hair with heat protectant.

Annie peeks up. “You’re going all fancy on me today.”

I smile and nod as I turn on my curling iron. I haven’t used it in forever. Back when my hair was long, I curled it allthe time, but now the only time it gets used is when Mama borrows it.

While the iron heats up, I get dressed. I want to wear something that pops. Maybe if I disguise myself in bright colors, I’ll feel better. Our closet is overflowing with clothes, which are mostly mine because I love shopping. It’s a rainbow of colors, everything from purple to blue to yellow and all the colors in-between.

I’m drawn to the pair of pink overalls in the back. They’re perfect. I’m a firm believer that no one can have too many overalls. I match them with a white shirt that has little blue flowers speckled across it and puffy sleeves.

“What earrings are you going to wear with it?” Annie asks.

I run over to the vanity again. All of my earrings are displayed on a jewelry organizer. “Strawberries,” I say. “Definitely strawberries.”

My strawberry earrings are subtle—my definition of subtle tends to vary from other people’s definition, or so I’ve been told—because these earrings are studs and smaller than most of my other pairs. They’re pink instead of red, and go with my overalls perfectly.