Page 48 of 15 Summers Later

Madi sighed, feeling small. “I don’t hate you. I’m not very happy with you but I don’t hate you. There’s a difference.”

“At least that’s something,” Ava muttered.

“So, are you sick?”

Ava swallowed and Madi didn’t miss the way she avoided her gaze. “No. I think I must have caught a stomach bug a few weeks ago and I can’t seem to shake it. That’s all.”

Madi knew something else was going on. Ava was a lousy liar. She just didn’t know what questions to ask that might persuade her sister to tell her the truth.

“How long are you staying?”

“I still haven’t decided. I don’t have to be back to school until August.”

“What are you going to do while you’re here?” she asked.

Ava shrugged. “I don’t know. Help Grandma in her garden, I guess. I worked at her stall at the farmers market yesterday, mostly handling the payments. I understand Grandma gives all the proceeds to you for the animal rescue.”

She winced. Whenever Leona donated her weekly proceeds, Madi always felt like she was bilking an old lady out of her pocket change. “I keep telling her she doesn’t have to do that, that she can use it on herself or the garden, but she insists.”

“Every little bit helps, I suppose.”

“It does. The whole community has really rallied around the Emerald Creek Animal Rescue.”

“You’re filling a need.”

They lapsed into silence. She could see Ava was about to excuse herself. Later, she wasn’t sure exactly what made her speak up. Maybe a yearning for those joy-filled cleanup parties in their Oregon home instead of this stilted awkwardness.

“We’re always looking for volunteers to help out at the sanctuary.”

“Volunteers?” Ava’s eyes widened with shock, but the expression was quickly followed by one of interest.

Madi immediately regretted saying anything. “Right. Our pigpen can always use a good cleaning.”

Ava puffed out a breath. “Oh, sign me up for that one.”

“For your information, our pigs are adorable and very clean. But if you don’t want to do that, you could play with the animals or help us with feedings or work in the office.”

“I could maybe do that.”

“You can sign up online. You should be prepared, though. We don’t let just anybody volunteer. You have to go through our rigorous application process.”

“To clean a pigpen.”

“That’s right.”

“Good to know. I’ll keep my fingers crossed I can make the cut. Will you excuse me, please?”

Ava set down the dishcloth and turned away from the kitchen, hurrying toward the half bath by the mudroom again. Madi watched her go, frowning. After a pause, she thought she heard the sound of retching, but the water was running loudly and she couldn’t be sure.

She didn’t really expect Ava to volunteer at the clinic. Her sister was allergic to cats and had a grave fear of dogs.

Cynophobia, it was called.

Madi knew where it came from.

Once at the camp, Ava had been attacked by the poor dogs that had been turned into feral weapons by the Coalition. She had been bitten several times, wounds that had taken weeks to heal.

Her sister had thrown her body over Madi’s to keep the dogs away from her. The memory burned.

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