“I noticed it on a walk with Riley,” Sadie explained. “I’ve never been inside, though.”
Something shifted in Paul’s expression, a slight softening that she was taking an interest.
“Used to be Corbyn’s favorite spot. As a lad, mind you.”
Sadie’s interest piqued as Paul took a sip of tea. “Really?”
“Aye. Precocious little thing, always had questions about the plants. Why does this one need shade? How come that one grows faster?” he paused, shaking his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Notebooks full of observations he had.”
The image of a young Corbyn, curious and eager rather than bitter and closed off, tugged at something in Sadie’s chest. There had been a glimmer of that eagerness today, and the interaction suddenly took on an entirely new meaning.
Before Sadie could respond, Corbyn’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Reed! I need you again!”
Paul’s mouth twitched in what might have been amusement. “Duty calls. Mind he doesn’t work you too hard. Man forgets others need rest, even if he doesn’t.”
When Sadie reentered the study, Corbyn stood by the window, staring out at the grounds in a way that suggested he wasn’t seeing them. He turned as she entered, his expression more troubled than it had been before.
“The brother,” he said without preamble. “Shaw’s reaction when he finds the evidence that his brother faked his death. I can’t nail it.”
Sadie approached cautiously, still not sure how to read this version of him, the one that actually wanted her help. This was the book’s emotional core, and she knew getting it right was crucial.
“What’s the block?” she asked, keeping her voice soft.
Corbyn gestured to the pages scattered across his desk, voice tense when he admitted, “He’s a detective. He should be able to look at the evidence logically.”
Sadie settled into the chair across from his desk, considering. “Shaw can be both a detective and a brother in that moment. The conflict of logic and emotion is what makes the scene powerful.”
He pulled his chair around to her side of the desk, and she had to try not to look at him as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head. They worked side by side, though, with Sadie suggesting approaches while Corbyn shaped the actual prose. The scene slowly transformed as it gained depth and nuance that had notbeen there before. Time slipped away as they passed pages back and forth, refining dialogue and pacing.
“There,” Corbyn said finally, reading over the final version. “That works.”
Sadie stared at the clock in surprise. They’d been at it for over an hour, completely absorbed in the creative process. It was, she realized, the first time they’d truly collaborated rather than just negotiated.
“I should let you get back to it,” she said, gathering her notes. “I’ve still got those earlier chapters to finish.”
As she rose to leave, Corbyn’s voice stopped her.
“Reed…” he paused, as if shocked that he had spoken. “Stay. Work in here.”
She stared at him for a moment, uncertain she’d heard correctly. Corbyn gestured awkwardly to the leather sofa near the hearth, where Riley often sprawled during their sessions.
“If you want,” he added gruffly. “Might be easier… for when we’re working together.”
The invitation wasn’t casual, though he’d tried to make it sound that way. This was his domain, a sacred space that wasn’t meant to be shared. Yet here he was, asking her to stay. Perhaps it was simply that she had finally earned his professional respect, but it felt like something more fragile and precious. Either way, she recognized it for what it was, a risk he was taking, a test of trust neither of them had expected.
“Okay,” she said, keeping her tone light despite the moment’s significance. “Let me grab my things.”
When she returned with her editing materials, Corbyn was already back at work, pen moving steadily across the page. Riley had claimed one end of the sofa and looked up with doggy contentment as she settled at the other.
The study was quiet except for the scratch of pens, the occasional rustle of paper, and Riley’s soft sighs. Something hadshifted, creating a warmth in Sadie’s chest. She couldn’t help but think that this was the beginning of a partnership that might actually save this book.
February 20, 2025
-Corbyn-
Corbyn sliced through the water, the feeling of weightlessness combined with the warmth of the indoor pool allowing a moment of reprieve from the constant aches. After a particularly trying editing session with Sadie yesterday, he had overdone it on the stationary bike, and his body was paying for it in addition to the usual aches from the February chill. Here, though, he could still maintain some level of activity and normalcy.
Riley sprawled across the tiles at the pool’s far end, tracking Corbyn’s movements with sad eyes. The Wolfhound had been reluctant to leave the study, or more specifically, to leave Sadie. His massive head had been nestled in her lap, her hand occasionally scratching behind his ears while she worked. When Corbyn decided he needed a break, Riley had looked up at him for a moment as if to say,Really?before heaving a sigh and following him toward the door that led to the lower level.
