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“Contained,” I say.

Edward looks at my shirt. “You have grease on you.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.” Alcott steps close, wipes my cheek with a napkin, then pauses, “There. Almost presentable.”

“Almost?” I'm offended.

“You are still you.” He adds slyly.

Before I may scold him footsteps sound in the hall, as Olive’s voice follows, amused and suspicious. “Boys, what have you gotten yourselves into?”

The dining room door opens, and Olive stops as her hand rests on the frame. For a moment, none of us breathe. She looks at the candles first, then the cushions and food. Edward is standing too straight, as though bracing for judgment and Olive’s expression shifts from confusion to realization.

“What is this?”

I bow. Deeply and dramatically, because if I do not make it dramatic, I may become sincere, and sincerity remains a dangerous substance when mishandled.

“Happy anniversary, darling.”

Her brows draw together. “Anniversary?”

Edward states, “Of us.”

Olive looks at me. I continue, quieter now. “The night you entered the workshop and ruined every plan any of us had for solitude, misery, and emotionally unfulfilling murder.”

Her lips part.

Edward adds, “The night I learned the woman behind the curtain had been you.”

Alcott’s mouth curves. “The night I realized my life was about to become significantly more interesting.”

“And the night,” I say, “I lost a Ripper and gained a family.”

Olive’s eyes shine. The softest wound. The kind that heals while opening.

“You remembered?”

Edward looks almost offended. “Of course.”

Alcott steps forward. “We remember everything important.”

I smile. “And several things that are not. For example, Edward once said my coat looked like a haunted carpet.”

“It did,” Edward says.

“It was velvet.” I snap.

“It was tragic,” Alcott adds.

Olive laughs. Enough to make the whole ridiculous evening worth every sausage-related indignity. She steps into the room, taking in the cushions, the candles, the low trays, “You moved the table?”

Edward says, “Yes.”

“Why?” Her confusion utterly adorable.

“So you could leave easily,” he answers.