Turtle had hated Barney Northrup. Every time she met him he rubbed her the wrong way, right from the first time when he'd convinced her parents that she'd be fine sleeping in a closet. And he insulted her family in front of her, which made her blood boil more than just insults to herself could. But the thing that had really pushed her over the edge into hatred was the way he'd treated Sandy. Sandy, who couldn't speak out against it himself because of his job, and his family, and so Turtle lashed out at Northrup for him.

Turtle was always a little awed of Julian R. Eastman, with his mansion, and suits, and stern face, and wealth. But the person he was underneath all that was dear to her, and that was why she continued visiting him week after week, learning chess and business and anything else he thought of to teach her. And, whenever the awe got to be a little too much for her, she stared at him until his eyes met hers, and looking into the blue of them soothed her with the reminder of who he really was deep inside.

Turtle had loved Sandy McSouthers. For the affection he gave her, and for being able to be stern when he needed to be, in a way more parental than her parents had ever bothered to be, more than Baba, for all the Turtle had come to love her too during the time of Westing's game, could be when strictness was so foreign to her. She'd loved him for the stories he told her, even if she later knew that he'd purposely used them to goad her on Halloween night. And she'd loved him for making her feel special and cared about, even when she did stupid and mean things, just because of who she was, something that she'd never been used to feeling before him.

She had known three of Sam Westing's four identities, and felt differently about each one. And in the end, even if Northrup was one of them, from what she had seen of each of them she thought she would always consider him her favorite uncle.