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“Sorry,” Ava said as she walked into the kitchen. “That was my cousin, Margaret.” She took the chair across from her daughter.

Patience took a bite of her salad and chewed. “She lives in Illinois, right?” she asked when she’d swallowed.

Her mother had some family in the Midwest. Patience vaguely remembered a few of them visiting when she’d been little, but there hadn’t been much contact in years. There were the obligatory cards and letters at the holidays and not much else.

“Yes. Margaret and her mother, who is my step-aunt. It’s complicated.” Ava paused.

Patience watched her, aware that something had happened. Ava was flushed. She shifted in her seat and couldn’t keep her hands still.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Her mother started to smile, then shook her head. She half rose, then collapsed back in the chair. “Great-Aunt Becky died.”

“Who?”

“Great-Aunt Becky. My step-aunt’s mother. She’s not technically a relative—at least I don’t think so. She and I wrote the occasional letter. You met her once. You were four.”