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Gracie had always loved the schizophrenic nature of early spring at Rocky Peak Lodge. One day, the first grape hyacinths would unfurl their petals, the next a blizzard would drop two feet of snow. The unpredictability confirmed her basic sense that everything was always changing.
Now that she knew a bit more about her history, she wondered if that was where that feeling came from. One minute you were riding in a car with your mother, the next your life changed completely and your safety depended on a six-year-old. Even if she hadn’t remembered any of that, her subconscious probably did.
At any rate, the morning she returned to Rocky Peak held a shy kind of warmth, as if spring was sticking a toe in the water. The sky was the color of a bluebird’s wings, and tender green peeked from t
