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He pulls out a stool and sits at the island.

I shake my head.

“Do all of you wake up when someone opens flour?”

“Pretty much.”

As if summoned, Will walks into the kitchen.

He looks at Arthur.

Then at me.

Then at the trays.

“What kind?”

Arthur points at him.

“See?”

I stare at both of them.

“You're ridiculous.”

Will pours himself a glass of water.

“What kind?”

“Blueberry turnovers, cream cheese Danish, and chocolate pastries.”

“How long?”

“About twenty minutes.”

He looks at the clock.

Then sits beside Arthur.

I put my hands on my hips.

“You're really going to sit there?”

“Yes,” they answer together.

I turn back to the counter.

“Fine.”

I start cutting another sheet of pastry.

“Where's Sean?”

Arthur points toward the hallway.

“Security room.”

“At three in the morning?”