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She’d helped decorate this one, cutting out shapes from the dough to create the tree and leaves, which wound around the cooling vents in the crust. “It’s almost too pretty to cut.”

“Almost being the key word there.” She grinned.

With her help, we got everyone settled with pie. Evie was the last to sit before me, while I served myself a piece of the lemon. “Go ahead,” I said. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

The clatter of silverware followed, and where there would normally be a chorus of sounds of enjoyment, there was nothing. I turned with my plate and froze. No one at the table was moving. Evelyn was entirely motionless with the fork still in her mouth.

I recognized the pose. I’d used it myself more than once when I was in the beginning of my career, overconfident, and had created something that was truly awful.

Dread poured down on me. “No.”

Setting my plate on the counter, I cut a bite of the pie and ate it. Rancid, sour flavor exploded in my mouth, and I nearly gagged. It was as if I’d made the pie with all expired dairy products, on top of baking it, which made it all worse. It was rotten, and judging from everyone’s faces, it was not the only one.

I turned, stepping to the trash can and spitting out the bite of pie, trying to keep myself calm. But panic was spinning up my spine, and it was only a matter of time. I couldn’t be here. Not this second. I needed to breathe.

Not one person looked at me as I ran for the door, but I heard the scrape of chairs on wood behind me. “Lena.” Jude’s voice followed me, but I didn’t stop.

How could this happen?

The door slammed behind me, and I went down the length of the porch and around the corner, where they wouldn’t immediately see me. The door closed a second time. I didn’t mind that he’d followed me, but I couldn’t even speak. Couldn’t respond when he called my name until he came around the corner.

“Lena, it’s all right.”

“It’s not.” I shook my head. “It’s not all right.”

Evie came skidding around the corner. “Lena, it is okay.”

I gave her a look. “Of course it’s not. The pies are ruined. Thanksgiving is ruined.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, no. Thanksgiving can’t be ruined by not having some pie.”

“I don’t understand. We tasted everything. I tasted everything. I should have made an extra pie to try after they baked, clearly. Has something happened to the oven? Maybe something I used was heat sensitive. Old flour…” I was grasping at straws. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re right. They were fine when we made them, and I don’t know what happened. But no one is mad at you for something that was clearly an accident.”

“Yeah.”

Rationally, I knew that was true. But it didn’t make anything feel better.

“Come back in when you’re ready,” she said. “I’ll take care of the pies, and we’ve got ice cream and loads of whipped cream to eat.”

Evie glanced at Jude on her way back to the door with a forced smile. I needed to go back inside. Staying out here would only make it worse and make everyone think they needed to be careful around me. Or walk on eggshells. I didn’t want that.

“Come here.” Jude opened his arms, and I didn’t remember making the conscious decision to walk into them. But I was wrapped up in them all the same, his hands rubbing comforting circles down my spine.

My mind was entirely blank, trying to figure out how this had happened. It was just…beyond me.

“You tasted it?” I’d served him a piece of the chocolate pie.

“I did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Lena, this isn’t you. Something happened. You know no one in there is going to blame you for this. Or even be upset. Mistakes happen. Accidents happen.”

“They tasted fine, I swear…” My thoughts tumbled to a stop. We’d made most of the pies two days ago and left them overnight for the customers to come pick up yesterday. Some of ours, we made that day, and a couple of them we made last minute yesterday. That meant… “Was it all the pies?”

I looked up, and I saw confusion on his face. “What?”