The road was not plowed, but lights burned from inside the big house. Stella pulled up the circular drive and gestured at Todd’s feet. “Guess you wish you would have worn boots now,” she said. Todd jumped out of the Jeep and stomped around in a little circle, kicking up snow. Anything to prove an adult wrong. “I’m fine,” he said through chattering teeth. “Mind your manners,” she cautioned as she rang the bell. “Mrs. Wolfort’s old school. She won’t put up with no sassin’.” Adriana opened the door with a grand, sweeping gesture. She was dressed in her country gentlewoman finest, a look she’d adopted years ago that was lost on most of the locals. Her Wellington boots were topped by a tweedy skirt and a sweater set that looked like it might have been picked out by the queen mother herself. “Hello, young man,” she said, holding out a gnarled, beringed hand. Todd, to his credit, shook it with no hesitation and set to rubbing his shoes vigorously on the entry rug.