"I knew it," she said. "By the eyes." She'd tugged the corner of each eye outward with a fingertip. But Lydia, defying genetics, somehow has her mother's blue eyes, and they know this is one more reason she is their mother's favorite. And their father's, too.

Then Lydia raises one hand to her brow and becomes his mother again.

"The car's still here," she says, but Nath had known it would be.

Lydia can't drive; she doesn't even have a learner's permit yet.

Last week she'd surprised them all by failing the exam, and their father wouldn't even let her sit in the driver's seat without it.

Nath stirs his cereal, which has turned to sludge at the bottom of his bowl.

The clock in the front hall ticks, then strikes seven thirty. No one moves.

"Are we still going to school today?"Hannah asks.

Marilyn hesitates. Then she goes to her purse and takes out her keychain with a show of efficiency.

"You've both missed the bus. Nath, take my car and drop Hannah off on your way." Then: "Don't worry. We'll find out what's going on." She doesn't look at either of them. Neither looks at her.