“Yeah, she’s kinda awesome with art stuff.” There was an edge to his tone. Then I noticed a small shelf holding more art supplies that was pushed over to the edge of the room so my single bed could fit inside, and I realized why the boys were upset when Katherine mentioned my sleeping arrangements. “I’m taking her space.” “She doesn’t have much time to paint anymore,” Cole said, stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his trunks. “Twelve kids and all.” In other words: yes, I was. Before I could respond, Will dropped one of my suitcases onto the floor, surprising both of us with a thud. “Come on, Cole,” he said and straightened back up. “Jackie’s got a ton of bags that we need to bring up.” “I’ll help as soon as I’m done changing,” I offered, not wanting them to do all of my work. Will dismissed me with a wave of his hand. “Just make yourself at home.” When they were gone, I shut the door to change, dropping the wet towel that was still wrapped around my shoulders to the floor. This morning I’d made sure an extra set of clothes—tailored pants and a pink shirt with a simple collar—was packed in my carry-on in case of an emergency. After changing, my hair came next. It took me nearly ten minutes of battling with my comb to detangle the knots. “Hey, you alive in there?” I heard Cole ask as he knocked. “Give me a moment,” I called and patted down my hair one last time. With my straightener packed away, there was nothing to do about the curls, so I grudgingly let them hang down in dark waves after fastening my blue ribbon back in place. “Yes?” I asked, pulling back the door. My luggage was now piled outside. “Just checking,” Cole said as he leaned against the doorframe. “You were in there for a while.” “I was changing.”