Schatzi nodded. “She comes once a week or so to help with cleaning and errands. Good worker, nice enough girl, but doesn’t say much. Keeps to herself. Suppose most teenagers are like that these days.”
“Does she live nearby?” Maddie raised an eyebrow, surprised that Schatzi hadn’t mentioned Hannah before.
“Not too far. She walks here. I’m sure her father would drive her, but he works in town, and he’s hardly ever around. Hannah’s been doing her best, but you can tell she’s struggling a bit. Poor girl lost her mother last year. She’s only sixteen and already carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.”
Maddie felt a pang of sympathy in her chest at Schatzi’s words. Sixteen was far too young to lose a parent, far too young to bear that kind of pain. Maddie understood that all too well. She had been older when she lost Jack, but grief didn’t care about age—it hollowed you out just the same.
“Do you talk to her about it?” Maddie asked quietly.
“I’ve tried,” Schatzi said with a sigh. “But she’s a tough one to reach. Comes in, does her work, and leaves. Doesn’t say much more than she has to.”
A few minutes later, there was a quick knock at the door. Maddie glanced at Schatzi, who nodded. “Probably her.”
Maddie got up to answer it.
When she opened the door, the cold air rushed in, raising goosebumps on her skin. Standing in the doorway was a thin, dark-haired girl, her features partially obscured by the thick gray scarf wrapped around her face. She had wide brown eyes, and her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold. An army-green canvas bag hung from her shoulder, and her expression was neutral, almost bored.
“Hi. You must be Hannah,” Maddie said, offering a small smile.
Hannah nodded once, her gaze shifting briefly to Maddie before darting away. “Is Schatzi here?”
“She’s in the kitchen,” Maddie replied, stepping aside to let her in. “Come on in. It’s freezing out there.”
Hannah stepped inside, carefully wiping the snow from her boots before dropping her bag against the wall, then shrugging off her jacket and scarf and hanging them up.
Beneath the coat, she wore a navy hoodie that had both bleach spots and stains on it, looking very much like it had seen better days. She didn’t say anything else as she made her way toward the kitchen, her posture stiff and her movements mechanical, like she was just going through the motions.
“Morning, Hannah,” Schatzi called out from her seat, giving the girl a warm smile. “You remember I mentioned my niece, Maddie?”
Hannah glanced at Maddie again, her expression unreadable. “Yeah,” she muttered. “I remember.” Her gaze moved lower to where Ernie was sitting by Schatzi’s feet. “Hey, Ern.”
He went right on licking his foot, indifferent to the greeting.
Maddie watched as Hannah silently gathered the cleaning supplies from under the sink. There was something so guarded about her, like she was deliberately keeping the world at arm’s length. Her movements were small and very careful, as though she was determined to stay invisible, to avoid any unnecessary interaction.
Maddie wanted to say something to break through the girl’s wall of silence, to reach out to someone who was clearly struggling, but she wasn’t sure where to start. Or if the girl would even be receptive.
Deciding probably not, Maddie instead busied herself by clearing the breakfast dishes and loading the dishwasher. Hannah moved around the room and Maddie with practiced efficiency, her face blank, her actions precise, but without any real energy behind them.
“Everything okay with you?” Schatzi asked after a few minutes, her voice gentle, but probing. “How’s your father?”
Hannah shrugged, her back still turned as she wiped down the countertops. “Same as usual. Dad’s working.”
Schatzi sighed softly but didn’t push any further. Maddie could see the concern etched on her aunt’s face, but it was clear that Hannah wasn’t in the mood for conversation. From the looks of her, that mood wasn’t something she was ever in. She seemed determined to get her work done and leave
After a while, Schatzi stood up from her chair and headed toward the living room, Ernie trailing lazily behind. “I’ll be in here if you need me,” she called over her shoulder, leaving Maddie and Hannah alone in the kitchen.
The silence that followed was awkward, heavy and thick. Hannah moved from task to task with robotic precision. Maddie wanted to say something, anything, to reach out to the girl who reminded her so much of herself at that age—guarded, withdrawn, and carrying a weight that felt too heavy for her years.
Such was the plight of most teenage girls, but one without a mother must be feeling it even more.
“Do you need any help?” Maddie finally asked, hoping to break the silence.
Hannah glanced at her, her expression unreadable. “No. I’m fine.”
Maddie bit her lip, unsure of how to respond. She had been a teenage girl once, after all, and knew that pushing too hard wouldn’t get her anywhere. But the protective instincts she had learned over the years—first with Jack, and now with Schatzi—were kicking in. She didn’t want to sit by and let Hannah stay closed off, but she also didn’t want to scare her away.
After a few more minutes of awkward silence, Maddie tried again. “How long have you been helping Aunt Schatzi?”
