All over the front of her clothes and his racetrack-themed rug.
7:08P.M.—THE BUTTON MANOR
“Tea, anyone?” Romeo asked the small group of guests made up of seven teenage geniuses and their guardians, four university professors, a librarian for the Vatican, and a rocket scientist named Dudley.
They were all huddled up in the dining room, having been instructed to stay here while the broken glass in the drawing room was being cleared. Their cage seemed to be getting smaller and smaller.
Romeo didn’t mind this much, because the dining room was connected to the pantry, and the pantry had a kettle, tea, and cookies. Romeo may not have been excellent at a lot of things, but he was pretty decent at brewing a good mug of tea and presenting it to people in times of crisis.
Most of the guests either ignored his offering or turned it down—even Perdita, who was sitting at the head of the table, refused his drink, much to his dismay. Then again, she looked more preoccupied with the fact that Mr. Philips and his son were seated next to her. There had been an awkward tension when he’d spoken to them. Or maybe the awkward tension he was sensing was between himself and his sister. It felt like she’d been avoiding him.
“I’ll have a cup, thanks, Romeo!” Anwar said from his position on the dining room’s large bay window seat, looking up briefly from the cookbook he seemed to be reading.
“I’ll have a cup too,” Evie suddenly chimed in, strolling through one of the doors that led into the kitchen.
“Oh, hi,” Romeo said, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Where’ve you been?”He hadn’t seen Evie since the garden, when she’d revealed she was investigating his father’s murder.
“I’ve been here, there, and everywhere,” Evie said with a smile. “Was in the foyer for a bit and then the drawing room, but I was mostly in the kitchen with my mom.”
“You were? I was looking all over the place for you before. You seemed to have… disappeared.”
“Why were you looking for me?” Evie questioned, taking a seat on the bay window next to Anwar.
“I, uh… wanted to speak to you after the whole thing in the gardens earlier…” He had been nervous that she’d overheard the wrong thing and thought ill of his sister and wanted to set the record straight. At least with Anwar, Romeo figured that since he seemed to know Bilal pretty well, he might care enough to not spread their family secrets—or so he hoped. He wanted to make sure Evie wouldn’t say anything either.
“Well, here I am,” Evie said, gesturing at herself. “What did you want to tell me?”
Romeo glanced around at the other guests nearby and decided it might be best to have that conversation elsewhere, away from prying ears, suspecting glances, and police uniforms. He needed to talk to her in private.
“When they finish with the mess in the drawing room, I’ll tell you then,” Romeo said.
“Sounds mysterious,” Evie said with an unnerving smile. Her smile always disarmed him. “I only saw the aftermath of the drawing room. What happened in there?” Evie asked.
“Octavius happened. It’s a weird story that I don’t think I fully understand just yet… but what I can tell you is that it involves a horse,” Romeo said.
Evie’s eyebrows shot up in interest.She really wasn’t there, then, Romeo thought.Was she really with her mom at the time?
“Is Octavius okay?” Anwar asked.
Romeo genuinely didn’t know. “He’s upstairs, I think with Fola. He’ll be fine, I’m sure.” He tried to mask the worry in his voice even though there was so much to worry about. “But anyway, I’ll go and grab your drinks. Be right back,” he said. Then he rushed off into the pantry room, grateful to feel needed and to have something else to focus on.
“What are you working on next?” Evie asked Anwar, as Romeo returned with their tea.
“Honestly? Nothing,” Anwar said. “I have no new ideas, and a part of me is scared that I’ll never come up with another good idea again, or that it’ll take years before I do. But the other part of me remembers that I’m eighteen. It won’t be the end of the world if the next thing I think of comes in ten years or even twenty.” Anwar finished with a shrug.
Romeo placed the mugs down on the ottoman in front of the window and pulled one of the dining room chairs forward to sit on. “What are you guys talking about?” he asked.
“I was having an existential crisis over my career, and Evie here was being nice and listening to my ramblings,” Anwar said.
“ActuallyI was telling Anwar how much I love his books and would literally read his grocery lists,” Evie said.
“My agent would be very happy to hear that. She suggested I change lanes, try to write in a new genre, like a detective story or a murder mystery.”
“Me and Romeo used to love watching detective shows together,” Evie said. Romeo was a little surprised she remembered that. “What was that true crime series we used to rewatch all of the time? The one with the lawyer that was also a party clown?”
“The Clown’s Court?” Romeo said.
“Yes, that!” Evie turned to Anwar. “Well, if you do decide to write a detective book, Romeo and I would be very happy to be your research experts.”
