Mrs. Riley was there, but there was something different about her. He couldn't put his finger on it.
She smiled at him. "Did you have a nice time next door?"
He thought he must have misheard her. "Stacy is over there, and she says she's playing house," he started.
"That's nice," she said. "Why don't you wash up for dinner?"
"Dinner? But, Stacy is.."
He got a stern look. "Stacy isn't my child. You are," she said. "We're new in this neighborhood, Jon. The neighbors are nice people. Try not to bother them too much."
Jon blinked.
