"The church is ne-" started Malachi, but the boy got it out before he could. At least they were both in agreement about that particular lie.

What happened next baffled him into (a fortunately fleeting) silence.

The infant -- Lucy, the boy had called her -- was snatched up, the older boy was knocked across the head, and the younger one was blessed with just a hand upon his own. Malachi blinked, took a moment to compose himself, and forced a polite smile.

"Ruth," he greeted, "the constable here was trying to claim neglect and have the children taken in."

God, he hoped she was as good a liar as her nephew.

"I was just telling him that you'd left them in my care while you were out."