“Everything okay?”
“Probably just Lily refusing to nap again. But I should call them back.” She paused. “Promise me you’ll think about it?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. The idea of taking over the company terrified me, but the thought of it being sold to strangers made my chest tight with something that felt dangerously like grief.
Katy glanced over my shoulder, then beamed. “Look who’s walking up behind you.”
I turned, and saw Sage Morrison making her way towards our table. Her flowing skirt swished around her ankles, and the silver jewellery she always wore caught the light, glinting with each step. We’d known each other since university, though her career had taken some left-field turns since our business school days.
“What a nice surprise to get both sisters in one place.” Sage greeted us with a warm smile, her voice carrying that calmness that always made people trust her instantly.
Before I could respond, Katy’s phone rang, the vibration loud against the table. She glanced at the screen, and grimaced as she answered. “Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she promised, her voice clipped. Hanging up, she sighed and stood, then grabbed her bag. “Lily’s thrown up on the teaching assistant. I really have to go.”
Katy leaned over to kiss my cheek, then reached for Sage’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze.
“Sorry I can’t stay to chat, but thank you for last week. Same time next month?” She paused, looking between us. “Take care of my sister, please. She’s having an existential crisis. You might be just the right person in this moment.”
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “I’m really not having that,” I started to protest, but Katy was already halfway to the door, her brilliant-white trainers squeaking against the black-and-white tiles as she hurried out.
Sage slid gracefully into the chair Katy had vacated, then flagged down a passing waiter to order a coffee. She turned to me, her dark eyes filled with an unsettling mix of curiosity and understanding. “So. An existential crisis?”
“Career crossroads,” I corrected, trying to ignore how her presence made the air feel sharp and charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm. “And why is my sister seeing you again next month?” I hadn’t realised Sage and Katy even knew each other that well, let alone that they were meeting regularly.
“We ran into each other at a wellness day I was doing.” Sage’s tone was casual, but there was something deeper in her words. “You’ve got quite a distinctive surname, and I think we met once or twice when she visited you at uni. We got chatting about mygift, and I mentioned that I was picking up a lot of… activity around her.”
“Activity?” I asked, even though I already had an idea where this was going.
“Spirit activity.”
Right.
Along with being a healer and a crystal expert, Sage was also a medium. A good one, apparently, if all my friends were to be believed. I didn’t necessarily buy into the idea of a chatty afterlife, but if it brought people comfort, who was I to judge? Until, of course, it involved my sister.
“Katy has been seeing you for your medium service?” I kept my tone as neutral as possible.
Sage took a moment before answering. “You should talk to her, but… yes.”
There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but I swallowed them down. Sage wouldn’t tell me anything before Katy did. I knew the drill.
Instead, I shifted the subject. “Katy thinks I should join the family business.”
“Ah.” Sage tilted her head. “And you’re resistant.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Family always is. Plus, when you were at university, you never wanted to join the company. I remember that well. ABV you once told me.”
I pulled my gaze from her, shame washing over me. Anywhere But Voss: ABV. That had been my mantra at business school when I was feeling particularly aggrieved with Mum. Now I saw it for what it was: childish and petty. But I couldn’t take it back.
The waiter returned with Sage’s coffee, and she poured milk from a tiny jug, her rings clinking softly against the whiteporcelain cup. Then, after a brief pause, she added: “Speaking of family…”
My stomach flipped. I’d run into Sage a few years ago at a conference, and during an unplanned chat at the hotel bar, she’d casually mentioned things about my grandfather. Things she couldn’t have possibly known. She’d said he was there with us that night. I hadn’t known what to make of it.
“I’m getting some pretty insistent visitors around you.” Sage’s voice dropped to an ultra-calm tone. “Would you be open to hearing from them?”
A shiver ran down my spine, even though it was a bright April London day. I sat up straighter, glancing around. “Here? Now?”
She nodded.
