Maddie was up first in the morning, making coffee and warming cinnamon rolls. The coffee had just finished brewing when Liza came into the kitchen butterscotch hair brushed to a sheen, a startling contrast to the black wool slacks and silky sweater she wore.

"You look more like you're going to a funeral than a meeting with an attorney," Maddie teased. But then, at the word funeral, her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, punkin." Liza enfolded her in her slim arms. "It's okay. ...