The dark had robbed them, all three, of childhood. It had robbed them all.

Still, there were bright spots, she reminded herself as she dressed for the day. Friendships as solid, as strong and precious as diamonds. Being part of building something good and united.

And love—unexpected, sweet, and fleeting—had come to her through a man, a good man, who had taught history, had embraced her children and lightened her load.

When Austin died on a scavenging mission, she’d grieved again. But time softened grief, and she had the bright spots of memories.

Most of all, she held on to the joys of watching her children grow into the bright and bold and ferociously true.

She needed to believe what she’d helped build here, for them, would hold, would sustain them all. So she had work to do.

She went down the stairs of the house where she’d raised her kids, noted the fire already simmered in the living room.

And found Duncan in the kitchen, not only dressed, but putting on his outdoor gear.

“Hey.” He gave her his megawatt smile, but a mother’s eyes caught the little twinge of guilt in his. “Morning. I was just going to leave you a note.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah. Scouting party’s heading out this morning. I said I’d go with Flynn and Eddie.”

“It’s a school day.”

He rolled eyes as green as her own. “Mom.” And, God help her, she heard her own voice to her own mother at fourteen. “I’m caught up, you know that. I’m helping teach half the classes at this stage, and they don’t need me today. Anyway, Tonia’s going with Will and Micha and Suzanne on a hunting party.”

“I was going to ask first.” Tonia walked in, sparing her brother one hot glance.

“Yeah, right.”

“I was.”

Katie shoved at her curly brown hair, then lifted both hands in warning. “Nobody’s going anywhere until they’ve had breakfast. Is Hannah up?”

“Yeah.” Tonia, tall and slim, her dark hair already in what Katie thought of as her hunter’s braid, opened the fridge for the jar of mixed vegetable juice her mother made in an ancient blender. “She’ll be right down.”

“Hannah’s doing a half day,” Duncan said, always willing to toss either of his sisters under the mom bus. “Then going to the clinic.”

“Which is called community service,” Katie reminded him, “and part of education.”

“So’s scouting and hunting.” He smiled again when she sighed. “Just saying. If we’re eating breakfast first, can it be French toast?”

He edged over to Katie, wrapped an arm around her. “You make the best.”

A charmer, she thought, when he wanted to be. And she still had trouble accepting she had to look up at him. Tonia, too, she thought, though not quite as far up. Only with Hannah did she see eye to eye—often philosophically as well as literally.

“Take your coat off.”

“Yes, ma’am, Ms. Mayor.”

Katie shook her head. The job of mayor was something else she’d been talked into. Still, she thought she was pretty good at it. She got out eggs, a jug of milk, and her precious store of sugar and cinnamon.

No syrup—those were the days—but the kids just heaped on applesauce and ate like horses.

“French toast? Yum!” Hannah strolled in, glossy, bouncy golden-brown hair, doe-brown eyes, and a curvy figure Katie knew already had teenage boys giving her baby girl long—too long—looks.

Not that Hannah showed much interest—yet. Her interest centered around the clinic and learning all she could learn from Rachel, the town doctor, and Jonah, the paramedic, Rachel’s husband, and the hero who’d delivered the twins in the horrible days of the Doom.

As she cooked, Katie listened to the sibling noises behind her. Poking at each other, and she had no problem with that. Let them poke, work off steam. When the chips fell, they’d stand up for each other. Always had, she thought, and always would.

Before Katie could stop him, Duncan snatched the first slice off the plate, rolled it up, and ate it where he stood.

“Sit down like a human being. Hannah, you’re working at the clinic later?”

“If that’s okay. Rachel said they could use me. Ray’s doing visiting rounds, and Carly could have the baby any day, so she’s on desk work. Vickie and Wayne have the dental clinic open today, so the medical clinic’s going to be shorthanded.”

“Storm’s coming in,” Tonia said easily. “By tonight. We’re going to get dumped on.”

As he dropped slices on his plate and added applesauce, Duncan nodded. “Could get a foot, and wind’s coming with it.”

They’d know, Katie thought. Part of their gifts.

“It’ll take time to dig out from this one,” Tonia continued. “So hunting and scouting parties are as important today as the clinics.”

Katie caught the wink Duncan sent his sister as he shoveled in food.

And she gave up.

“You don’t drive.” She jabbed a finger at Duncan.

“Mom. Come on. I—”

“Deal breaker. Eddie or Flynn does the driving. We’ve been dumped on already, and the roads outside of New Hope are bound to be treacherous. You don’t have any experience driving in those conditions.”

“How do I get it?”

“You don’t get it today. Did Eddie or Flynn put in for the gas ration?”

“Sure they did. We’ll maybe bring some back. Still plenty of cars out there. We’ll siphon what we can.”

“You should take some food in case—”

“Eddie’s getting supplies from the community kitchen. We shouldn’t need it, but we’ll have it. This was great, thanks, Mom. But I gotta go.”

He rose, grabbed his coat.

“You need gloves, and—”

“Got it all, in the pockets.” Leaning over, he hugged her. Then added an additional squeeze. “Don’t worry so much.”

“It’s my job. My first job. My best job.”

She knew he’d take the sword and the bow from the utility room, and comforted herself that he knew how to use those weapons, and all the ones inside him.

“That’s one way to get out of the dishes. I’ve got to get out of them, too,” Tonia added. “Or I’ll be late.”

“Go ahead. Stay with the others, Tonia.”

“I will.” She kissed Katie’s cheek. “We’ll both be back before dinner. Have a good one, Hannah.”

“You, too. I got the dishes, Mom. I’ve got nearly an hour before school. And they’ll be back before dinner. It’s spaghetti night, right?”

It made Katie laugh. “Yeah, it is. You’re right. They won’t miss that. I love you, Hannah.”

“Love you right back.”

They had to grow up too fast, Katie thought as she pulled on her boots—a treasured pair of UGGs Duncan had scavenged three years before. Eleven years old, and he’d already been scavenging abandoned houses, cars, pillaged malls.

Much too fast.

She put on the parka she’d bartered for fiercely, and had worn every winter for more than a decade, then the hat and scarf Hannah—the only one in the family who could knit worth a damn—had made her for Christmas.

She picked up her briefcase—old and battered and passed to her by New Hope’s first mayor—and left the home she’d come to love for a job she hoped she proved worthy of.

In another life she’d been the youngest child and only daughter of a solid family, born and raised in Brooklyn, happily married to her college sweetheart. She’d worked in her family’s marketing firm, and when she and her Tony learned she carried twins, she’d planned to become a stay-at-home mom and devote herself to motherhood.

Maybe—maybe—she’d help out at MacLeod and MacLeod now and then, but she’d imagined herself taking her babies to the park, hosting playdates, documenting their firsts in pretty baby books, photo albums, videos.

She, along with her mother and mother-in-law, had outfitted and decorated the nursery. And she’d considered herself the luckiest woman in the world.