“Kit?” There were no saws buzzing, no hammers pounding, no music pumping, but it was the Saturday after Thanksgiving, so he wasn’t surprised. Actually, it was because no workers would be in the place that he and Lilly were there. He opened the door and shuffled the two of them inside, closing the door behind them against the rain that had begun the night before and wasn’t showing any signs of lightening up. “Be careful,” he told Lilly. “There’s buckets and tarps, ladders. Just walk around them, okay?” He held on to her hand. She had her turtle journal clutched to her chest in the other. “Where’s Miss Kit?” she asked, looking ridiculously adorable in her little green boots and matching raincoat with the turtle-head hood. Where Birdie had found them yesterday when she and Lilly had taken a little jaunt together while he caught up on some work, he had no idea. “I’m right here!” Kit came out from the back, smiling as she wound her way through the clutter. “Ooh,”
