Sage willed herself to walk carefully down the hillside back to the kitchen. She would not cry over what she had overheard.

What would I do without you, my brothers?

Riggs’s rhetorical question stung.

Sage couldn’t believe that just an hour ago she had been asking herself whether he could come with her and assimilate to the outside world. She’d been worried about how he would get used to grocery shopping and elevators.

It had never occurred to her to wonder if he would miss his brothers, or if he would even be willing to go anywhere without them.

They were his only connection to his past life. And the more Sage thought about it, the more it made sense. Of course they helped each other to adjust to this new life. Of course they needed each other.

Even Dr. Bhimani had not sent just one alien to the farm. She had sent three.

They looked like men, and they had a man’s needs. But their short time on this planet also made them like children. Sage could not imagine Tansy being taken from her when they were small. It would have been unthinkable not to have a sister with whom she could untangle the mysteries of the world.

Sage had nearly reached the farm house now. The roses climbing up the back trellis were in full bloom. They trailed up the side of the house, their flaming orange color trumpeting the return of summer. But their glory was in full contrast to the gloom in Sage’s heart.

She could not take Riggs with her. She would not separate him from his brothers. And the farm was not the place for her.

“Sage,” Otis called out. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

She had left him alone in the kitchen for five minutes. His only job was to flip the grilled cheese sandwiches when they were cooked on the first side.

But she stepped into the kitchen to the scent of burning bread.

Otis stood in front of the griddle, one of Grandma Helen’s aprons barely covering his chest, a spatula in one hand, his other hand fanning a newspaper to dissipate the smoke.

“Oh dear,” Sage said, marching into the fray.

She bumped him aside with her hips, grabbed another spatula from the can on the counter and started flipping the sandwiches. One was already on the floor in front of the stove.

“That’ll be mine,” Otis said quickly. “Ten second rule.”

“I think it’s a five second rule,” Sage said. “And there’s no scientific basis for it. Whatever it landed on would have already contaminated it.”

Otis picked up the sandwich anyway and put it on a plate.

Sage couldn’t help but notice that one side wasn’t toasted at all.

“Give it to me,” she sighed.

He handed it over and she dumped it on the griddle. Maybe she could cook the germs off it.

The other sandwiches took some prying but she managed to flip them.

“How’s the soup coming along?” she asked.

Otis blinked at her.

“There’s tomato soup on the counter, the can opener’s in the drawer,” she said, pointing at the soup.

“Sorry. I guess I’m really more of a baker,” Otis explained as he grabbed the can opener. “The bread for the sandwiches is fresh. I baked it this morning.”

“That’s impressive,” Sage allowed, looking at the bread in the pan. It did smell delicious. “And don’t worry too much about it.”

“I’m sure I’ll get better at other kinds of cooking if I spend more time here,” Otis said.

Sage was surprised that he was planning to spend much more time with them. Surely he would feel he had paid off his debt after a few days.

She looked over at him and he smiled at her sheepishly. Somehow it didn’t seem as endearing as when Riggs did it.

She caught a glimpse of something bright red on his hands.

He grabbed a towel right away and tried to cover them, but it was too late, she had seen.

It hit her that Otis might have some other reason to be here at the farm. He might still be planning to sabotage them.

And he had started with vandalizing the sign on the barn.

“What’s on your hands?” she asked.

“Oh, er, uh,” he stammered, further entangling his hands in the towel.

“I already saw, you don’t need to hide them,” Sage said sternly.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he said miserably.

“Some surprise,” Sage said. “How could you?”

“I know, I know, you said we all need protein, but I couldn’t help it,” he told her. “Everyone loves red velvet cake.”

“What?” Sage asked.

Otis opened the refrigerator and pointed inside.

Sage stepped over and saw a two tiered, lavishly frosted cake.

“I was going to surprise everyone after dinner, but you, uh, caught me red-handed,” Otis said with a nervous laugh. “I had a little mishap with the food coloring.”

“Oh, wow,” Sage said, feeling terrible for suspecting him. It seemed pretty far-fetched that he might have vandalized their sign, then run back inside and baked an entire cake as an alibi.

“I made it while you were in town this morning,” he said proudly. “Still can’t believe I got it done before you walked in the door.”

“Is something burning?” Tansy asked as she strode in the back door.

“Shoot,” Sage said, dashing back to the stove to get the sandwiches off the griddle.