“Six cards,” Brian said. “Three from each of us.”

“Any ten that I want,” Liam said. “And you have to help me study for all my math tests and my spelling tests for a month. And you have to do whatever I say for the rest of the day.” He knew he was pushing it, but Liam so rarely had any power in the Quinn household.

“No way,” Brian said.

“Deal,” Sean countered.

Brian gave his twin a shove. “Who made you the boss?” A moment later he was pinned on the dusty parlor rug, Sean’s knee pressed into the small of his back. “All right, all right. Deal.”

“You guys go into Da’s room,” Liam said. “Close the curtains and crawl under the covers and pretend you’re him. I might have to prove he’s here. And don’t make any snoring noises. Make it look good.”

“Just get her out of here before Conor and Dylan and Brendan get home. They’ll kill us if they know we let her in.”

“You just do your job,” Liam said, walking to the door. “And I’ll do mine.”

When the twins got to the back of the house, Liam waited a few seconds then pulled the door open a crack. He tried to appear frightened. “What to you want? I’m gonna call the cops if you don’t go away.”

The lady stared down at him with a stern expression. “I’m Mrs. Witchell from County Social Services. I’d like to see your father, Mr. Seamus Quinn.”

“He’s sleeping,” Liam said. “And he said I’m not supposed to let any strangers in.”

“What are you doing home from school?”

“I’m sick. I have a fever.”

“You can let me in,” she said, showing him her identification. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just here to help.”

Liam shut the door, then grabbed his coat from the pile near the radiator. He slipped out the door, closing it firmly behind him. “I’m not supposed to let anyone inside. But I guess I can talk to you out here.” He sat on the top step, then patted the spot beside him. Mrs. Witchell smiled weakly at his invitation before she sat. “Why do you want to talk to my da?”