She stares, incredulous, then snatches it out of my hand like she’s worried I’m going to change my mind about giving her a flapjack. “You remembered?”
“Of course I did.” Even when she was in Australia I always remembered. I pass over the coffee. “To dunk it in.”
She takes it, eases off the plastic and sticks her nose so close she comes away with a tiny spot of frothy milk. “Mmm. And you put?—”
“Six sugars.”
Her smile rivals the sunrise. “Thanks, Hen. This is the best birthday present I’ve ever had.”
“You’re welcome.”
She takes a long sip, followed by another. “So what happens today?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, we’re meeting at my solicitor’s offices as per Sienna’s request. We’re as prepared as we can be for all eventualities.”
“It’s going to be okay, Hen,” she says, wrapping her free arm around me, squeezing me tight.
My chin drops onto her head, allowing myself to settle against her.
Because this, the hug, breathing her in—even sweaty—until my nervous system relaxes, is exactly what I’m doing in Valentine Nook before the sun’s fully risen.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
I shake my head. On one hand, no, I’m not sure. On the other, I know bringing Miles with me to Arthur’s office to meet Sienna could make things worse.
Or better. It’s impossible to decide.
“Let me drive you at least,” he pleads. “You’re not exactly thinking straight, and you need someone to talk it through with.”
“Mum’s coming with me because she’s got a meeting with the estate anyway. James is driving.” I place my hands on Miles’s shoulders. He’s as tense as I am. “But could you please collect Max from school? Maybe take him to Foxleigh after?”
My twin nods, and even if worry wasn’t written all over his face, I’d feel it. It’s one of the reasons I don’t want him with me. He’s much more explosive than I am, and I can’t have it jeopardizing anything if Sienna acts like the bitch we all know her to be. The PTSD from two years of dealing with her is real, and I know how to stay calm amid her excessive demands and bullishsolicitors.
The quicker this meeting is over, the better. I’ve barely slept in the four nights since she called and asked for it.
The first night, I didn’t go to bed at all. I just sat up all night in the library working through game plans A, B, C, and D while reruns ofThe Simpsonsplayed on the TV. The second night, Miles joined me. The third, I took a sleeping tablet, which didn’t work until halfway through the morning of the fourth day. Which is why I didn’t sleep that night.
My body clock is fucked. I’m currently eight hours behind. If I were in California for the meeting, I’d be golden.
“Sure, we can do that. He can take Chester for a ride. That’ll stop him from asking too many questions. He might even think I’m you.” He winks, and I admit it raises a small smile.
“Thanks, Milo. I love you.”
“I love you. Remember elbows in, bump hard, and you’ll be fine. Especially if the duchess is there channeling her best Rottweiler.”
“What’s that?”
We both turn as our mother walks in, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves.
“See, she’s come prepared for murder. Everything will be fine.”
“Miles, what are you talking about? Who’s been murdered?”
“Just talking about your gloves, Mother.”
She holds her hands up, turning them back and forth. A dignified wave. “These? They’re Hermès, why?”
“Don’t worry about it, Mum.” He slings an arm around her and kisses her cheek. “Just let us know where to bury the body later. James can help. I’m sure he’s had plenty of experience with that in his time.”
