“It was locked when I arrived,” Jean said stiffly. I shook my head.

“It must have blown shut but I didn’t lock it. I wouldn’t.”

“It was locked when I arrived,” was all she said, with a touch of stubbornness this time.

Anger flared inside me, replacing the fear I’d felt for Petra. Was she accusing me of lying?

“Well . . . maybe it came off the latch or something,” I said at last. “Are the girls okay?”

“Aye, they’re having a bite in the kitchen wi’ me.”

“Were you—” I stopped, trying to figure out how to phrase this without placing myself even lower in her estimation. Plainly, for whatever reason, this woman didn’t like me, and I mustn’t give her any ammunition to report to Sandra. “I came back because I heard a sound from Petra on the baby monitor. Did you hear her?”

“She’s not let out a peep,” Jean said firmly. “I’ve been keeping my eye on them all”—Unlike you, was the unspoken subtext—“and I’d have heard her if she was greeting.”

“Greeting?”

“Crying,” Jean said impatiently.

“Maddie then? Or Ellie? Did either of them come up?”

“They’ve been down in the kitchen with me, miss,” Jean said, a touch of real crossness in her voice. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to be getting back to them. They’re too wee to be left alone wi’ the stove.”

“Of course.” I felt my cheeks flush with the implied criticism. “But please, that’s my job. I’ll give them lunch.”

“I’ve given it to them already. The poor wee mites were ravenous, they needed something hot in them.”

I felt my temper, already frayed by the stress of the morning, begin to break.

“Look, Mrs. . . .” I groped for the name, and then found it, “McKenzie, I’ve already explained, the girls ran away from me; I didn’t lock them out. Maybe if they got a bit cold and scared waiting for someone to let them in, that’ll make them think twice about running off next time. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.”

I pushed past her and stalked into the kitchen, feeling her eyes boring into my back.

In the kitchen Maddie and Ellie were sitting at the breakfast bar eating chocolate chip cookies and drinking juice, with what looked like the remains of a pizza on a plate by the sink. I felt my jaw tighten. All those foods were strictly on Sandra’s “occasional treat” list. I’d been planning to settle them down for a film in the afternoon with some cookies in the TV room. Now that was off the menu, Mrs. McKenzie was in their good books, and I would be the bitch nanny who locked them out and had to enforce a healthy supper.

I pushed down my irritation and made myself smile pleasantly.

“Hello, girls, were you playing hide-and-seek?”

“Yes,” Ellie said with a giggle, but then she remembered our earlier quarrel, and frowned. “You hurt my wrist.”

She held it out, and there, to my chagrin, was a ring of bruises on the pale skin of her stick-thin wrist.

I felt my cheeks color.

I thought about arguing with her, but I didn’t want to raise the issue in front of Mrs. McKenzie, and besides, it seemed like I’d done enough to antagonize them both today. Better to swallow my pride.

“I’m ever so sorry, Ellie.” I bent down beside her at the breakfast bar so that our heads were on a level, speaking softly so that Mrs. McKenzie wouldn’t hear. “I truly didn’t mean to. I was just worried you’d hurt yourself on the drive, but I really apologize if I was holding your arm too hard. It was an accident, I promise, and I feel terrible about it. Can we be friends?”

For a second, I thought I saw Ellie wavering, then she jerked and gave a little whimper.

Beneath the breakfast bar I saw Maddie’s hand whip back into her lap.

“Maddie,” I said quietly, “what just happened?”

“Nothing,” Maddie said, almost inaudibly, speaking to her plate more than me.

“Ellie?”

“N-nothing,” Ellie said, but she was rubbing her arm, and there were tears in her bright blue eyes.

“I don’t believe you. Let me see your arm.”

“Nothing!” Ellie said, more fiercely. She pulled down her cardigan and gave me a look of angry betrayal. “I said nothing, go away!”

“Okay.”

I stood up. Whatever chance I had had there with Ellie, I’d blown it for the moment. Or rather Maddie had.

Mrs. McKenzie was standing against the counter, her arms crossed, watching us. Then she folded the tea towel and hung it over the stove rail.

“Well, I’ll be away now, girls,” she said. Her voice, when she spoke to the children, was softer and far more friendly than the terse, clipped tone she’d used with me. She bent and dropped a kiss on top of each head, first Ellie’s blond curls, then Maddie’s wispy dark locks. “You give your wee sister a kiss from me, now, mind.”

“Yes, Mrs. M,” Ellie said obediently. Maddie said nothing, but she squeezed Mrs. McKenzie’s waist with one arm, and I thought I saw a wistful look in her eye as her gaze followed the woman to the door.

“Goodbye now, girls,” Mrs. McKenzie said, and then she was gone. Outside I heard a car start up and bump down the drive to the road.