For mid-April, the day was a little cool, but he breathed in deeply and smiled at the scents wafting from the diner. Apple Pie. His favorite. Of course, with a name like Apple Grove, the town went a little gaga over apples. Streets bore names like Gala, Honeycrisp, Granny Smith, and Delicious. Even his new home was on McIntosh Lane. He’d chuckled at that. His mom had collected apple items—her whole kitchenhad been done in apples when he and Mandy were kids. When he’d moved to Apple Grove, he’d wondered what had happened to all that. Nobody to really ask, though. Once she’d passed and their dad moved them, all traces of her had been erased from their lives as if she’d never existed.