"Why do you get so freaked out around your Uncle Samuel? Did you, like, do something shady to him or what?" I teased as Nora eased the wheelchair to a slower pace.

She didn’t respond, which only made me more suspicious. I tilted my head back to look up at her. "Oh my God, you 'did' do something!"

"Can we not talk about this?" Nora muttered, her tone defensive. And let’s be real—that was as good as a confession.

I tapped her hand resting on ...