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“I came to see you,” I tell her, brushing a smudge of dirt from her cheek with my thumb.

A small crease appears between her brows. “Everything okay?”

Before I can answer, Jules appears from inside carrying a clipboard. He no longer needs the crutches, though the walking boot remains firmly in place.

“Praise the Lord,” he announces dramatically, pressing the clipboard against his chest. “Please take her.”

Maggie groans. “Jules.”

“No.” He points the clipboard directly at her. “Absolutely not. You're growin’ a whole human being. You can’t be carryin’ boxes around.”

Maggie looks offended. “It weighed maybe five pounds.”

“Five pounds too many,” Jules replies, narrowing his eyes.

“It was dog toys.”

“I don’t care if it was feathers.”

Maggie crosses her arms. “You're bein’ ridiculous.”

Jules plants one hand on his hip. “You climbed a ladder thirty minutes ago.”

Maggie peeks at me, clearly considering her answer. “I climbed three steps,” she says finally.

“You climbed four. I counted.”

“I hate all of you.”

“Excellent,” Jules says cheerfully. “That means the intervention is workin’.”

I look toward the ladder leaning against the building. “Maggie.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake.” She releases an exaggerated sigh. “It was four steps,” she says defensively.

I simply stare at her.

She throws both hands into the air. “Fine. Nobody let the pregnant lady do anythin’. I'll just sit in the corner and supervise.”

“Good,” Jules and I say simultaneously.

Maggie points accusingly at both of us. “I really hate y'all.”

Jules beams. “Love you too, honey.”

A volunteer approaches carrying paperwork.

Maggie turns toward her. “I can still answer questions,” she mutters, taking the forms.

“No lifting,” Jules calls after her.

“No ladders,” I add.

She waves one hand dismissively without turning around. “I heard both of you the first seventeen times.”

Luka quietly laughs.

I ignore him.