Naomi's POV

The rain subsided by morning, leaving the garden with a fresh scent — moist earth and crushed mint beneath my feet where Miranda had attempted to "make soup" with wild leaves the previous day.

I discovered her small footprints scattered across the back steps when I stepped outside with my coffee. She had risen before dawn once more, searching for worms for an imaginary pet bird she insisted resided beneath the large oak tree.

Raymond was still asleep — a rare occurrence ...