“You must be Maria,” she said in a rich, smoky voice. She took Maria’s hands in hers and squeezed. “I was so sorry to hear about your loss.”

“Nice to meet you,” Maria said, pulling her hands back to her sides. She understood now why Derek’s mom had said Luellen was a little scary. But Derek’s parents were still talking to Mom, and Rafi was listening in, clearly bored. Derek stared off into space. Maria couldn’t decide whether or not he was avoiding her eyes. Well, fine, then, she thought.

“That’s a beautiful dress you’re wearing,” Luellen said.

“Thank you. It was my grandmother’s.”

Luellen pinched the fabric of Maria’s shoulder strap between her fingers. After an uncomfortably long moment, she leaned in and said, “You know, I actually saw your grandmother once, a long time ago. Did you know she used to travel with a famous circus?”

Maria didn’t know what to say. Derek came out of whatever trance he’d been in, equally surprised. That was a relief, at least.

“You saw my grandma Esme do a show?”

“Oh, yes. Many years ago now, in a charming little village in Switzerland. I was there on business, and I was intrigued by an advertisement for the Amazing Arturo and Esmerelda the Magnificent. They were the headliners of the whole circus, you see. Your grandmother was the only lion tamer at that time — or since, as far as I know — who could control her beast with nothing but a whistle. Arturo, meanwhile, would do the most unbelievable things with just a handkerchief and a mirror. Their grand finale was to make the lion disappear. They really were quite extraordinary together. I’ll never forget it.”

Maria started to ask whether there had been any other animals involved in the act, but Pastor Yarmuth called the service to order then, and the Overtons had to make their way to the only pew still open, the very last one in the back.

Maria struggled to focus on Pastor Yarmuth’s speech. With each new warm story he told, she only missed her grandmother more.

She stared up into the tall ceiling of the sanctuary. She could see past the wood beams to the place where all the walls of the church came together in a point, the inside of the steeple. She was surprised — and then not so surprised — to see that a swarm of spiders had gathered in the rafters, their webs like thick clouds from the sky beyond.

These weren’t the black spiders with red hourglasses that meant your time was up. These were the brown spiders that had made Maria’s dress. These were the spiders that had been Grandma Esme’s friends. These were the spiders that had come to say good-bye.

Maria wished that she had worn her ring. She wanted to tell the spiders thank you.

The service itself was done in no time. It was the walk back to the car, and then the drive to the cemetery, that took forever.

The crowd at the gravesite was smaller than it had been at the church. Derek’s family had taken him on to school, and many of the church members had gone their separate ways. But a smaller crowd still meant a lot of people.

Almost everyone here was crying. Mom wept quietly, her back held straight and her hands bunched in a knot. Even Rafi had tears in his eyes.

Maria didn’t cry. She kept her composure. A shadow queen is still a queen, she thought.

Then, from behind a tree across the way, a moving shape caught Maria’s eye. The shape was black and seemed human at first, but the more Maria watched it, the less human it seemed. One moment it looked like a distant grave; the next it just looked like the thin shadow of the tree. Maria squinted her eyes and stared, and for a second she was sure that yes, it was a person — a man in a black suit who was very tall and very thin — but as soon as she’d seen him, he’d disappeared again.

And then Maria was being ushered forward by her mother. She was supposed to throw a handful of dirt on Grandma Esme’s grave. Maria hesitated. This felt like saying she agreed with the burial — that she wanted it to happen, or allowed it somehow. But she knew she’d start a fight if she refused to do it, so she picked up her handful of dirt and threw it in.

By the time she looked up, the man or the shadow was nowhere in sight.

As a final sign of how upside down the day was, Rob was allowed to spend the night with Rafi, even though it was a school night.

When Maria answered the door, and Rob dashed straight back to Rafi’s room with his overnight bag, Mr. McCormick handed Maria a bowl of banana pudding with an apologetic smile. Before she could say that they hadn’t finished the first one, Mr. McCormick said, “Sorry about this. I guess Terry’s gone bananas from all the party planning this week.”

Maria laughed politely and thanked him for the pudding. She’d completely forgotten Claire’s birthday party was the next day.

“Will we see you at our house tomorrow night?” Mr. McCormick said warmly.

“No, I —” She’d started to say that she hadn’t been invited, since apparently he didn’t know. She liked the idea of Claire getting in trouble with her parents. But now didn’t seem like the time to shatter Mr. McCormick’s image of his daughter, right when he’d done her family a kindness. “I just have so much going on this week. Helping my mom and all.”

“Right, of course. Where are my manners? I’m so sorry about your grandmother.”

Maria shrugged. She still didn’t know how to respond when adults said this.

“Please tell your mother hello, and thanks again for putting up with Rob tonight. You call me if he gives you any trouble.”

Mr. McCormick winked at her and headed back to his car. He really was a nice man. A little silly — not at all like Maria imagined her own father would be — but nice. How he was the father of two such different children Maria would never understand. But then, she supposed she and Rafi didn’t exactly have that much in common, either.

Maria took the banana pudding to the fridge and found her mother at the kitchen table, staring off into space again.

“You okay?” Maria asked.

“What? Oh, yeah,” her mom replied. “Just thinking.”

“Mrs. McCormick sent over another banana pudding.”

“But we haven’t even touched the last one.”

Maria held up her hands as if to say, What did you want me to do? Send it back?

“So Rob is here?”

“Yeah, he went back to Rafi’s room.”

“Good,” Mom said. “I’m glad Rafi is able to do some laughing tonight.”

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, nothing. I just worry about you kids sometimes. One death is a lot, but two? I don’t want you and your brother growing up thinking life is this big, sad thing.”

“I don’t think that,” Maria said. “I laugh all the time.”

“Do you?” Mom said, looking at Maria earnestly.

Maria laughed. “Yes, Mom. See?” She tugged at the edge of her shirt. “Derek makes me laugh,” she said quietly.

“That’s true. Derek is a good egg.”

“He seemed a little weird this morning.”

“At the funeral?”

Maria nodded.

“Well, he was very close to your grandmother, too, you know. Grief affects us all differently.”

“Yeah,” Maria said. She could hear the steady thwack thwack of two wooden swords from the direction of Rafi’s room.

Mom drifted back to thinking whatever she was thinking, and Maria left her to it.

She slipped back into her room and pulled down one of her favorite books, Agatha at Sea, about a royal kitchen maid who finds a sword in the castle moat and becomes a pirate. Rereading her favorite books always made her feel happy and safe, because she already knew what would happen in the end. She wished that real life could work that way — that she could see the future, and that the future she saw would be always happy.