Uneven footsteps came toward them. They all turned, and Noelle Ashby, wife to Victor Rhodes, limped in from the entryway, tall and striking even with the hitch in her stride. She fixed Marla with a look of warning. Then her eyes found the small figure standing at Wade’s feet, and she stopped where she was. Wren’s face carried an echo of her own baby pictures. Noelle’s eyes reddened, and when she spoke her voice shook no matter how carefully she held it. “W-Wren. It’s Wren, isn’t it? I’m… I’m your…” Wren heard her struggling and finished it for her in a bright little voice. “I’m Wren. Are you my mommy?” That one word, mommy, hit her like a spell going off in her chest. Noelle nearly broke. She crossed the floor, dropped into a crouch, and pulled the small body into her arms. “Yes! I’m… I’m your mom, Wren. I’m your mom…” The hug caught Wren off guard. Perfume came with it, and underneath the perfume something soft and warm that reminded her of sunlight. In four and a half years of living, Wren had never once been held by a mother. Her masters had been all hard edges and cold hands. This was nothing like that. She blinked, half lost and half curious, and let herself be held until it got too warm. Then she wriggled a little. Noelle let go at once. Her eyes were red and still wet as she finally got a proper look at the daughter she had lost four years ago. She knew Wren had been taken in by the sanctuary up at Greyhollow, and pity came out of her before anything else. “Sweetheart, all those years up there, you must have…” She meant to say her daughter must have suffered. Then she actually looked. Wren was round-cheeked and storybook pretty, all soft skin with pink underneath it. Her hair fell thick and wheat-blonde, and her eyes were a bright, clear blue. Actually… somebody has been feeding her well. If anything, the clothes were plain. Noelle had felt the fabric while holding her, though, and it was soft and well made. Someone had taken care of her. The sentence died in her throat, and relief moved in behind it. Her daughter had not suffered, and that was all she needed to know. She looked her over twice more before she took her hand and led her inside. The Rhodes house ran three stories. Victor Rhodes had come from nothing and built the company himself, and it had grown fast enough to put him among Crestmont’s new money. The place had been decorated to say so. Noelle brought Wren in and started for the stairs to show her the bedroom. They had barely reached the first step when something came bouncing down at them. It turned out to be the head of a doll. Wren looked up. Daisy Rhodes, the daughter that house had raised for four years, stood on the landing, close to her own age and glaring straight down at her. “You can’t come in my house! It’s your fault me and Mommy got hurt! You’re a jinx! Get out! Go away!” Wren studied her face and said nothing. Noelle’s expression dropped the second she heard it, and she snapped. “Daisy! Where did you learn to talk like that? What does your fall have to do with Wren? And this is her home too, so you’ll be polite in it.” Wade, still holding the pack, nodded to himself. Exactly. Strictly speaking, this is Wren’s house. Daisy is the fake one. And she has the nerve to tell the real one to leave? Well. She’s young. She doesn’t know any better. Daisy had probably never been spoken to that way in her life. She stared at Noelle in disbelief, and then her face crumpled. She sat down flat on the stairs and let loose. “You yelled at me! You actually yelled at me over that bastard! “I hate you! I don’t want you for a mommy anymore! I want Ms. Lowe!” Hearing that word come out of Daisy’s mouth turned Noelle’s face to stone. The swap had never been Daisy’s fault, and four years of raising her counted for something. Noelle had worried the truth would break her, so she agreed when Victor said they should keep it from Daisy and Toby for now. That was why she had not gone to collect her own daughter. Daisy fell and screamed at her not to leave, Noelle turned her ankle in the middle of it, and Victor insisted she stay. She had never guessed how much venom Daisy was carrying for Wren. That last line burned off whatever pity she had left, and the warmth drained out of the way she looked at Daisy. “If you love Vivian that much, if you’re going to say it every single day, then go and be hers.” It was not the first time Daisy had said she wanted Vivian for a mother. Before, it had chilled her and hurt her, and she never understood why Daisy, whom she had spoiled from the day she came home, preferred a stranger to her. She had even questioned herself over it. Now she found she didn’t care. She had Wren. This one was her own blood. Whatever affection she could not force out of anyone else, she was finished chasing. She knew it was a cruel thing to say to a child. But she had only just gotten her daughter back, and she was not about to make that daughter small for the sake of the one she raised. Daisy clearly hadn’t expected those words. Her wailing cut off so abruptly it was as if someone had flipped a switch. She stared up at Noelle, and something close to panic flickered through her wet eyes. A second later, the panic curdled into spite and swung toward Wren. She had found her culprit. It’s her! It’s all because of that bastard. That’s why Mommy doesn’t want me! Daisy scrambled up and came pounding down the stairs to throw the jinx out herself. She had been the favorite in that house her whole life, used to everyone giving way, and whatever came into her head she simply did. Her legs were short, she was already hurt from the morning, and in her hurry she pitched straight forward off the steps. However cold Noelle had turned on her, she had still raised that child, and she could not stand there and watch her land. She let go of Wren, put weight on the bad ankle without thinking, and lunged to catch Daisy. The impact shook the whole staircase. The two of them went down together on the steps. Noelle had gotten underneath to take it, and her back caught the edge of a stair. The pain rolled through her in waves. A crash like that carried through the entire house. Fast footsteps came down from the floor above. The voice of Toby Rhodes, the son Noelle had adopted, came with them, high and worried. “What’s going on? Was that Daisy crying?” Toby, eight or nine years old, came down the stairs at a run. Daisy took one look at him, pointed at Wren, and sobbed. “Toby! Toby, she pushed me!” Noelle was still riding out the pain in her back when she heard it, and she turned to Daisy in flat disbelief. How can she say that with a straight face? When did she turn into this? She tried to snap at her, but her back stole the words. Daisy stayed in her arms, shouting for Toby to go make it right. Wren had seen her mommy go down and started over to help her up. Daisy was sprawled on top of Noelle and would not move, shrieking the entire time. That wore out Wren’s patience fast, and she snapped back. “You’re too loud! Quit it!” Toby did not stop to ask what was true. He cleared the last few steps and shoved her with both hands. “Leave Daisy alone!” The shove landed hard, and Noelle’s cry came right behind it. “Toby!” Wren was still standing on the stairs. Only a few steps were left below her, but a fall like that could kill a child. Noelle’s vision went dark at the edges. She reached for her daughter on instinct, but Daisy had her arm locked tight. In that moment, she hated the two children she had raised. How could they do that to Wren? Rage brought red into her eyes. The fall she braced for never came. Wren stood exactly where she had been. She might as well have been bolted to the step. Her feet never slid, and her shoulders never rocked. Toby shoved and nothing happened, which stopped him cold. He tried again. She still didn’t move. What? I pushed as hard as I could! Why didn’t she go down like Daisy? Confusion crossed Toby’s face, and it crossed every other face in the room too. Wren let him push her twice. She looked up at his furious expression, then down at the hands still planted on her. Her round face turned solemn while she thought it through, and she arrived at a conclusion. “You pushed me.” It was obvious enough, though nobody could tell where she was going with it. Her small voice came again, and this time it had heat in it. “Okay. Now I get to defend myself.” She stepped in, locked both arms around Toby’s legs, and heaved him clean off the floor.