"She left," I said, looking down, smoothing his cowlick. "Eat your breakfast."
"Okay," he said, then turned to Ezio and held up his fork. "Ezio, these eggs are really good today!"
Ezio walked into the dining room and sat across from Leo. "Yeah?"
"Yep," Leo said, nodding seriously. "Better than yesterday."
"I'll tell the kitchen to make them this way from now on," Ezio said.
"Good idea," Leo said, satisfied, and went back to his eggs.
I looked up. Ezio looked back. Our eyes met across the table.
I didn't say anything. Neither did he. But I saw that line at the corner of his mouth relax a little.
I looked down and took a sip of tea.
Sunlight came through the window and made a warm square on the dining room floor. Leo's fork clinked against his plate. Juliet asked Leo if he wanted to see the cats in the backyard later. Leo said yes, but he had to finish breakfast first.
Everything felt ordinary.
So ordinary it was like yesterday never happened.
But I knew it did. And I knew what this morning meant.
I set my teacup down, pressed my palm against the side, felt the warmth slowly fading.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Olivia
Ten days after Bianca got thrown out, life finally seemed to settle into some kind of peace.
Ezio kept his word. After that day, nobody in the manor mentioned her name again. Her room got cleaned out, every piece of clothing removed, even the locks changed. Elsa told me Ezio had ordered it himself, "Don't leave any trace behind."
His decisiveness made me feel better.
Maybe we really could move past everything. Maybe we could have a fresh start.
I woke earlier than usual this morning.
The curtains weren't fully drawn. A thin strip of light leaked through the gap, slanting across the floor. I lay there for a while, listening to the sounds in the hallway—footsteps and laughter tangled together, mixed with Juliet's hushed voice. "Keep it down! Vivi's still sleeping!"
"But it's licking my feet!" Leo's voice was completely out of control, high and piercing. "It tickles!"
"Then stop moving! I'll get your socks."
"But it licked me again!"
I sat up in bed, sleep still clinging to me, but my lips were already curving up.
Outside the door came the sound of paws scratching, then Leo's yelp. "It got in!"
The door burst open a crack, and a gray furball squeezed through, its four stubby legs skidding on the floor before it charged straight for my bed.
"Macy!" I called out. The French bulldog puppy had already jumped onto the bed, burying its wet nose in my neck, tail wagging like a helicopter rotor.
Ezio had brought this puppy home a week ago to burn off the kids' energy.
