Текст книги "Transcending Darkness"

Автор книги: Airicka Phoenix

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 36 страниц)

Chapter 20

“Come closer,” Maraveet coaxed once they were alone. “I promise I’ve sheathed the claws.” She rapped her blunt nails on the marble countertop as though to prove it.

Juliette smiled. “I’m not worried.” She crossed to the island and took a seat on the stool. “Killian tells me you travel a lot.”

“A bit.” She continued to drum her fingers while eyeing the tea box.

“I can make that for you, if you like,” Juliette offered.

“Lord, no.” Snatching up the box, she shoved it back inside the cupboard and shut the doors with a crack. “I’d never forgive myself.”

She was very pretty, Juliette observed, studying the other woman. Not exactly movie star gorgeous, but she had a sultry glow about her, like the sort of women who modeled Victoria Secret lingerie. She certainly had the figure for it. But it was her accent that intrigued Juliette most. It was every country and no country. It was as though every word that left her mouth held a different twang. Juliette had never met a person like that.

“What do you do?” she pressed on, fascinated by the only other person besides Molly that Killian had in his life.

Maraveet seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, because the question gave her a visible start. Her green eyes shot to Juliette with an almost accusatory frown.

“You’re a bit nosy for someone who shouldn’t be here.”

The venom in the comment slapped her across the face. The burn of it stung her cheeks and her jaw dropped. She blinked at the woman.

“Excuse me?”

Maraveet’s piercing stare intensified. Her mouth opened and Juliette instinctively braced herself. But whatever Maraveet was about to say was silenced by the shuffle of feet. A moment later, the same man who had grabbed Juliette up by Killian’s office ambled into the room. Blood was smeared across his chin. It streaked down the front of his dark coat. His eyes still seemed glazed, but he stood before them, sheepish.

“Ma’am, I—”

Maraveet put her hand up, stopping his apology. “No need for that, Robert. You’re fired.”

Juliette was stunned by the calm declaration. But Robert hung his head and staggered back out the way he’d come without a single word.

“That was a bit harsh, wasn’t it?” Juliette remarked, horrified by how cold the other woman was.

“No,” Maraveet said simply. “I hired him to protect me. Instead, he went down with one punch. I expect better of my men.”

While understandable, Juliette still couldn’t wrap her head around how easily she’d done it. It made her think of Killian firing John and Tyson for those exact same reasons.

Maraveet exhaled when several minutes passed and neither of them could think of a single thing to say. “How did you meet my brother anyway?”

“He saved my life.”

“That’s different. How?”

She found herself telling Maraveet the whole story. Everything from being indebted to Arlo to Killian offering her the contract. She wasn’t sure what possessed her to do it. It wasn’t as though it was any of the woman’s business, but once she started, it all just poured out of her. At the end, she smiled softly and gave a little shrug.

“Like I said, saved my life.”

Maraveet seemed unmoved, but Juliette could see thought churning behind those green eyes. She wondered if her story was getting analyzed and dissected, though she couldn’t fathom for what.

“You probably reminded him of her.” It was said so low, Juliette almost didn’t hear it.

“Who?”

Maraveet straightened. Her head turned a fraction in Juliette’s direction, pinning her to her stool.

“His mother.”

Aside from the statue outside the front doors, Juliette hadn’t seen any photos of Killian’s parents. There were no photos at all, which hadn’t seemed odd to her until that moment. But the statue’s face didn’t look a thing like Juliette’s. She was fairly certain they didn’t even share the same height. It made no sense to her how she could possibly remind Killian of a woman that looked nothing like her.

“I don’t understand,” she said at last. “What does his mom have to do with—?”

Maraveet’s expression grew wary. She squinted at Juliette.

“He hasn’t told you about what happened?”

Juliette involuntarily stiffened. “You mean about how she was attacked?”

“She wasn’t attacked!” The outraged shout made Juliette jump. “She was brutalized. She was tortured and mutilated and raped for two solid weeks by a pack of gutless animals who only used her to make a point.”

Juliette shuddered, not just from the image, but from the chill that seemed to be wafting off the other woman the way it rises off a chunk of ice. It swarmed around her, biting and fierce and Juliette shrank back in her seat.

“Saoirse McClary was murdered in the worst possible way any woman could ever die,” Maraveet finished with a slight hitch in her voice.

“The people who…” She didn’t want to say raped. She hated that word. Hated hearing it. The very sound of it felt violating. “Who hurt her, what happened to—?”

“Dead.” Blunt and without mercy. “And the world is better off.”

Juliette nodded in agreement. “Who were they?”

Maraveet averted her eyes, but Juliette saw the fire burning behind the green, turning them to polished emeralds.

“Yegor Yolvoski.” The name spat from her lips the way one might spit out poison. “Inbred son of a bitch and his two good for nothing sons. There were others involved, but Yegor was the one who ordered the kidnapping. He took Saoirse right off the street.”

The lunch she’d eaten hours before churned in the pit of her stomach. The contents felt soured and wrong. But she swallowed it back.

“Why?”

“Because of weapons and greed.” Maraveet shook her head as though the thought disgusted her. “He and Callum, Killian’s father, were in business together for years before Saoirse found out that Yegor was putting guns in the hands of children and her husband was helping transport it. Yegor was one of the most powerful arms dealers in the world. Nobody could touch him. But Saoirse would have none of it. She dragged me and Killian into Callum’s office one afternoon and screamed at him about how would he like it if those were his children being armed, being killed. I had never seen her so angry. Callum just sat there staring at us. Killian and I were eight or nine so I didn’t understand, but Callum broke his agreement with Yegor. He pulled his contract. I’m not sure how, but the coast guard got word of the weapons and Yegor got arrested. For years it was unclear whether Callum had given Yegor up or if his time had finally run out, but Yegor saw it as a betrayal.”

“So he took Saoirse,” Juliette murmured, mesmerized and horrified by the story.

Maraveet nodded. “He took videos of the things they were doing to her. Each day Killian would get a new one—”

“Killian?” Juliette felt her insides heave.

Maraveet didn’t answer the question. “Callum took them. He wouldn’t let us see, but Killian … Killian wouldn’t let it go. He wouldn’t stop. He knew there was something on those tapes regarding his mother and he wanted to see them.”

“No…!”

A sad little grin twisted Maraveet’s mouth. “We found them, hidden at the back of his father’s closet.” The smile slipped. A tinge of green spread up the curves of her face. “He wasn’t the same after that. The nightmares … his screams…” A shaky hand was pressed to her mouth like the memory had followed her into the kitchen. “I still sometimes hear them late at night. They were the sound a wild animal would make while being tortured and I couldn’t help him. The only person who could make him stop was Molly. She’d sit with him the entire night while he cried for his mother.”

Something wet dropped on the back of her hand, startling Juliette. She looked down and was surprised to find she was crying. Tears were streaming down her face and raining off her chin. Her coat was stained with droplets. She wiped the rest away with her sleeves.

Maraveet didn’t notice, too lost in the past.

“They dumped her outside those doors when they were done with her, right where that fountain now stands. She had fought them for a week before she’d given up, not that anyone can blame her. They had torn her apart in every way imaginable.”

An image of herself on the side of a dark road, being grabbed and shook by Killian rose up in her mind. She remembered the urgency in his voice, the panic in his eyes as he’d made her swear never to give up. It had made no sense to her then, but now she understood.

“Oh, Killian…”

His name whispered from her lips, a sound of her heart hurting for him. The pain reverberated through every corner of her being. It was only the fear of having to explain why she was crying that kept her from finding him, from pulling him into her arms and promising never to let him go through that again.

“What happened to his father?”

Maraveet rubbed a hand over her tired face. “Yegor killed him, too.” She exhaled heavily and let her hand drop. “The sniper was supposed to take out Killian, but Callum jumped in front of the bullet and died instantly in Killian’s arms.”

How was it possible for a person to have endured so much horror and heartache and not have gone completely insane? she wondered. How was Killian even functioning? To have seen that much at such a young age, it would have consumed her. She would have lost her mind.

“But at least he had you and Molly,” she said to the woman across the island.

Maraveet shook her head. “He had Molly. I couldn’t stay here anymore. This whole family felt cursed and I knew that if I stayed, either me or Killian would be next. So I took a job in Paris. I traveled. I stayed away, because getting close to anybody when you do the kind of work Killian and I do, will get you killed.”

It should have made sense. Maraveet’s logic was reasonable. She’d lost her parents in a gruesome manner as well, not as horribly as Killian, but traumatic nevertheless and she had every right to want to get away, yet it was wrong. It was so wrong. Juliette couldn’t even wrap her head around the very concept of what she was being told.

“You left him?”

Maraveet looked up. “What?”

Slivers of fire had begun to heat the ice left behind by Maraveet’s story. She could feel their gnawing as they worked to envelope her heart.

“You left him,” she repeated, no longer a question. “He had his mother brutally torn away from him and his father just died in his arms and you … his sister, left him. You just … you…” She couldn’t even speak through the hatred swelling up to close around her throat. “You abandoned him to this place full of all those demons and nightmares and never looked back. Hooray for you that you got to travel the world and forget, but Killian stayed here. He walked these halls, halls that had once been full of everything that had meant anything to him. It’s a wonder he didn’t lose his mind. I can’t believe how … selfish you are, how … horrible.”

Maraveet jerked back so fast she almost stumbled. Her face had gone white, making her eyes appear even brighter. But Juliette wasn’t finished.

“I’m sorry, but you are not a good person.”

With that, Juliette slid off the stool and marched from the room before she did something truly unforgiveable, like beat all the rage and sadness she felt boiling up inside her into the other woman’s face. Her spine tingled with the force of the tension working through the muscles. Her insides quivered between the urge to scream and break something or cry until the hurt stopped. Instead, she counted the crack-crack-crack of her heels snapping off the marble all the way to the front doors.

Someone had closed them to the swirling snow falling outside, but all she could think about was the fountain on the other side and the woman it immortalized. Her heart hurt all over again as she thought of Killian as a small boy, watching as the woman he loved was beaten and tortured. She thought of him waking up in the dead of night screaming for her. Then to have his father, the only person he had left, sacrifice himself to protect him and having to live with that … how could so much unfairness happen to one person? It was no wonder he was afraid to love anyone. How could he when those he loved were either killed or they left him? But she wouldn’t leave him. If he asked her to, she would stay with him forever.

“Miss.”

A handkerchief—an honest to God square piece of fabric with an embroidered M—was pressed into her palm. She stared at it in wonder for a full second before she wiped at her eyes.

“There’s nothing I can do, is there?” she whispered. “I can’t help him. I can’t fix what happened.”

Kind, black eyes peered down at her with more pity than she liked. “You have already done far more than you realize.”

It was hard to imagine how that was possible when she hadn’t done anything, when Killian was still hurting, but arguing about it wouldn’t do any good either.

“Perhaps you would like me to mend your coat,” Frank offered when they both simply stood there in the echoing silence of the foyer.

Juliette had forgotten all about the tear in the shoulder where the wool gaped to reveal the satin fabric underneath.

She shook her head. “It’s all right. I’ll sew it when I get home.” She sniffled and peered down at the mess she’d made of his handkerchief. Snot, tears, and smudged makeup had turned the once spotless bit of material into a disgusting sight. She grimaced sheepishly. “I’ll get this cleaned for you.”

The hint of a grin crinkled the corners of his eyes. “It’s not a problem, ma’am.”

She started to stuff the thing into her pocket when voices outside the door had her scrambling. She looked up at Frank with wide, panicked eyes.

“He can’t see me like this,” she blurted. “He’ll ask and I…”

“I understand, miss.”

Deftly, he caught her arm and guided her straight to a nearby washroom and stuffed her inside. He shut the door behind her.

On the other side, she heard Killian’s voice giving instructions, the scuffle of several feet as they drew closer. It was ridiculous, but her heart gave a jitter of dread, like she was doing something she shouldn’t be.

Shaking back the feeling, she moved to the sink and turned it on cold. Careful not to get her sleeves wet, she splashed her face. She reapplied a fresh coat of makeup, and double checked her reflection for any signs of her weeping before letting herself out.

“There you are.” Killian was walking towards her from the corridor leading to the kitchen. “Everything all right?”

Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, Juliette nodded. “Just needed the washroom.”

Dark eyes searched her face before dropping to the torn sleeve. “You need a new coat.”

Juliette wrinkled her nose. “Just needs a needle and thread. It’ll be fine.”

Attention was returned to her face. “Such an odd woman.”

He gave her no chance to respond when his mouth slanted over hers. Warm, firm lips held hers for a full heartbeat before moving, coaxing hers apart. Strong hands glided up the curved length of her spine to tangle in her hair. He held her to him, melding their fronts and guiding her back into the doorframe. The strength of his body settled with a familiar, welcoming weight against hers in a way that showered her with an eruption of tingles. They worked along her skin to scatter in the pit of her stomach. Her mind spun, lost in his heady scent. A moan rippled between them and his arms tightened around her.

He pulled back, not far, just enough to torment her with how close he still was and not close enough. Her whine was met with a delicious curve of his lips in a taunting smirk.

“Food first. You’ll need your energy for tonight.”

Her chest hitched with her shaky gasp. Her eyes darted up to his.

“You’re a horrible tease,” she breathed, and earned a husky chuckle from him.

“Just getting you ready.”

“Sir.” Frank appeared over Killian’s shoulder, his face set in a grim line. “Forgive the interruption, but there is a matter that requires your immediate attention.”

Killian unwound his arms from around Juliette and turned to face the other man. “What matter?”

Frank had his phone in his hand, but he didn’t glance at it as he spoke. “There was an incident at the Triend, sir.”

“How bad?”

“The authorities were summoned, sir.”

Killian exhaled. “Get Marco to bring the car around.” He didn’t wait to see Frank bow his head or leave. Killian had already turned back to Juliette. “I’m sorry.”

Bottling back her disappointment, Juliette offered him a rueful little smile. “It’s all right. It just means you owe me doubly later.”

That brought a chuckle to his lips that shook his shoulders. “Oh, I would expect nothing less.” His sobered, but his eyes continued to twinkle. “I might be a while.”

She opted to leave, if for no other reason than because she didn’t want to be there with Maraveet. The very thought of the woman had anger lancing up Juliette’s spine.

“That’s all right. I’m going to go make sure Vi’s done her homework.”

Warm, gentle fingers brushed the contour of her cheek, scratching the skin with the rough pads. “I’d rather you stay and keep the sheets warm until I return. It would be a great incentive to hurry.”

It was Juliette’s turn to laugh. “I’d wind up finishing on my own and turn you away.”

Thick coils of warning snapped across the dark pools boring into her. The heat of them nipped at her skin. His hands found their way back in her hair, fisting, tugging until she was perfectly at his mercy.

His mouth parted, his jaw set.

“Sir.” Frank’s voice had returned and it said very clearly that it was time to go.

Killian didn’t move. He devoured her with his eyes until there was nothing left of her but a hot, liquidy mess.

“Do not touch her,” he warned with just enough tug of his fingers to nearly make her come on the spot. “I want to watch when you do.”

Juliette’s knees dissolved. She slumped into him, no longer in control of her own support. The apex of her thighs throbbed with a raw vengeance that left her shamelessly desperate for even a sliver of relief.

“God, please hurry,” she whimpered.

He smirked the self-satisfied smirk of a cat who successfully had the bird in his grasp and no one was the wiser. He released her, but kept a secure arm about her waist as he guided her towards the front doors. Frank yanked them open and waited for them to pass.

Most of the scorch marks from the flash grenades had been shoveled away from the house. What couldn’t be removed was being hosed and scrubbed off the frozen marble. The smoke had also cleared, she noted, glancing up at the cloudless sky. When she’d arrived, the place had resembled a warzone. Men had been shouting and running through thick plumes of black while bangs and flashes erupted all around them. Their cries were muffled by the stampede of panic as everyone tried to find their footing through the chaos.

Jake had just pulled through the gates as another riotous bang split the frigid cold. Their wheels had shrieked to a stop as a blinding light exploded mere feet from the hood.

“Back!” Melton had shouted, but Killian was in there.

Juliette had lunged from the backseat. Her foot had nearly slipped out from under her as she’d thrown herself blindly through the anarchy. Tears had burned her eyes, the smoke had clawed down her throat, yet somehow, she’d found her way to the doors. Another blast had rung out behind her, shaking the ground beneath her feet. Mounds of snow had erupted nearby in an explosion of jagged ice. The blinding flash had nearly sent her backwards off the steps. But she threw herself through the open doors and straight into a circle of men she’d never seen before.

Bulging was a lame term for men that towered seven feet into the air and could have doubled for WWF fighters. They had stood in a semi-circle around the front mat like it was perfectly normal to be there. Their eyes had bored into Juliette, surprised by her presence, but making no move to stop her.

“Excuse me,” she’d said with all the courage she could muster.

The seven figures had exchanged glances, silently asking the others if this was part of the plan. Juliette hadn’t waited for them to get their shit together. Dodging past them, she sprinted for the stairs.

“Hey! You can’t go up there!” one of them had shouted.

Juliette didn’t pause. She took the steps two at a time at a neck breaking run. The thunder of feet had followed close at her heels, but she had kept running.

In her head, Killian’s warning about putting herself at risk played in a loop. She knew he was going to be furious, but it was too late to stop now.

Rounding the corner leading to his office, Juliette had slammed into a wall that hadn’t been there before. The momentum had flung her backwards like a rubber ball. She had nearly gone down had an actual wall not cushioned her fall with a jarring crash.

Panting, Juliette had straightened, pushing coils of hair off her face. Behind her, the two who had been chasing her slowed to a stop. The human wall she’d collided with shifted.

“You can’t go in there,” he’d said, folding his massive arms to emphasize.

“Of course I’m going in there!” she gasped. “Killian’s in there. I need to see him!”

Dark eyes had narrowed beneath thick, angry eyebrows. “You should leave.”

Feeling cornered but determined, Juliette had planted her feet. “Where’s Frank? I’m allowed to be here.” She wasn’t certain that was true, exactly, but no one had stopped her in the past. “Where’s Killian?”

“Busy.”

Her gaze had shot past his enormous frame to the open doorway just beyond and calculated her chances of reaching it before she was stopped.

She opted to go for it. Using her slenderness, she ducked past him at a run.

“Hey!”

A hard hand slammed down on her back. It fisted in her coat and she was tossed into the wall.

The bastard had ripped her favorite and only coat. She didn’t feel sorry at all for him getting his lights knocked out by Killian. At the time, all she could feel was a crippling relief that Killian hadn’t been shot or worse.

“Juliette?”

With a sharp intake of air, Juliette blinked out of the memory and focused on the man standing so close his heat was a toasty blanket against the sharp sting of cold nipping at her cheeks and the end of her nose.

“Sorry?”

“I said, I will let you know when I’m done,” Killian repeated slowly.

They had reached the SUV with a sullen faced Jake standing next to the driver’s door. He deliberately kept his face pointed straight, but she knew he was upset that she’d taken off on him. She made a mental note to apologize.

Meanwhile, she turned to Killian. She touched the center of his chest with an ungloved hand and raised her face to his, hoping for a kiss, but not sure he’d appreciate it in front of his men.

“Be safe and hurry back, okay?”

His features softened. “Always.”

With a final glance, she let Jake help her into the back of the SUV. The door was shut between them and they set off almost immediate. The last thing she saw before the vehicle passed the gates was Killian’s dark figure watching her drive away.

The house was quiet when she made it through the front door. Most of the lights were kept off, except the one in the kitchen, but the dining room was lit, which surprised her; Javier and Laurence weren’t keen on too much activity that might suggest people actually lived in the house. It was a security issue, apparently. They kept the front of the house dark. But Javier, a short, bald man with a perpetual scowl, sat hunched over the plastic table tucked beneath the sitting room window. Several empty mugs sat in a cluster around a legal pad full of scribbles. Juliette wasn’t sure what kind of notes the two kept taking, but they watched the front of the house as though certain they would be attacked at any moment.

He glanced up when Juliette stalked into the foyer, kicking off snow from her boots and undoing the zipper of her coat. Laurence poked his head out of the kitchen almost a split second later, a fresh mug in his hand.

Where Javier was short and round, Laurence was tall and thin and reminded Juliette of someone who spent a great deal of time reading. All he needed was a knitted sweater vest and cargo pants.

“Hello!” she called out as Jake and Melton stomped in after her.

“In here!” came a voice from the dining room.

Shrugging out of her coat, Juliette followed the voice and found Vi and Phil bent over a glass chess set. None of the pieces had been moved, but both were staring so intently at it, she half expected them to move on their own.

“What’s going on here?” Juliette asked, dumping her purse and coat on a nearby chair.

“I’m learning the fine art of chess,” Vi declared, never taking her eyes off the set. “I’m winning.”

Juliette peered at the board, at the neat row of glass figures in their perfect formation. She was no expert at the game, but she was almost certain someone needed to move.

“You are not winning,” Phil mumbled in that gruff, smoker voice.

“Sure I am, by refusing to partake in a senseless massacre.”

Phil sighed as though this was an argument they’d had way too many times already.

“Don’t you huff at me!” Vi warned, narrowing her eyes at the man. “My little pawns don’t want to fight the queen’s war. If the two feel so strongly about it, they should do what normal people do and get a reality TV show where they make bad choices and fight like real women.”

Juliette mashed her lips together to keep from laughing.

“I think that makes me the bigger person here,” Vi finished with a definite nod.

“Then why did you want to learn chess if you didn’t want to play?” Phil muttered, his tone barely controlled.

“That was before you brought these little guys out.” She picked up a pawn and held it up for Juliette to see. “Look how adorable they are! How can I ever send them into war? This is Mike. He’s married to Gina and they’re expecting their first baby. Do you really want the father of her unborn child to get killed?”

Juliette could have sworn a muscle ticked just beneath Phil’s left eye.

“You … named them?”

Vi blinked. “You didn’t?”

Phil rose. “Okay, I think we’re done.”

Vi watched with just the right amount of blank innocence to make Juliette suspect her sister was playing the poor man. Phil gathered up the pieces and gingerly set them back in their velvet box. He shut the lid and walked away with them tucked under his arm.

Vi snickered. “He’s so fun to mess with.”

“You’re horrible.”

Vi’s cackles only grew. “I know.” She turned brown eyes to Juliette. “How was your trip to the Big House?”

Juliette shrugged. “It was … crazy.”

In less time than it took to actually experience the whole thing, she rehashed the whole day’s event to the girl, leaving nothing out—except the part about Killian’s promise to hurry back so they could finish what he’d started. She didn’t think Vi would want to hear that part.

“Wow, the sister is a grade A twat canoe.”

“Viola!”

Vi, unfazed, gave a delicate shrug. “You were thinking it.”

She couldn’t deny that. She had been thinking it, not so much in those words, but close.

Casting her sister a disapproving frown anyway, she started for the door. “Any ideas on supper?”

“God, anything but chicken casserole,” Vi groaned. “I swear, I will run away from home.”

While Juliette didn’t say as much, she had to agree. It was kind of Mrs. Tompkins to take the time to prepare them supper every night for the last three years, but that was three years of chicken casseroles. She was fairly certain it wasn’t healthy to eat that much chicken. Occasionally, it was tuna or pasta, but if Mrs. Tompkins could get her hands on chicken, it was made into chicken casserole. But, in all fairness, Mrs. Tompkins was the only one who knew how to cook. It was part of their agreement since Juliette didn’t charge her for rent and she would only be cooking for Vi the majority of the time. But even she had gotten tired of the dish.

Mrs. Tompkins was in the kitchen when Juliette walked in. All her usual items were laid out across the counter and she was humming softly as she got ready to start.

“Hello Mrs. Tompkins.” Juliette offered her a smile.

“Hello dear, how was your day?”

Juliette nodded. “It was fine. Thank you.” She watched as the woman began reaching for the knife. “Mrs. Tompkins, why don’t you let me handle supper tonight?”

That got her the expected response—confusion.

“You, dear?”

The bemuse pulling all the folds on the woman’s face together was insulting.

“Well…” Juliette had no response.

She was saved when Vi skipped into the room, followed almost immediately by Phil; the man certainly took his job seriously, Juliette thought. Even Jake and Melton didn’t follow her around that religiously.

“What’s for supper?” Vi asked.

Juliette turned to her. “I was just telling Mrs. Tompkins to take the night off while I cooked something.”

Vi’s expression did the exact same wrinkle of confusion that was further insult to injury when she cocked her head to the side and regarded Juliette like she’d inexplicably begun singing in German.

“All right then, Miss Smarty-Pants, what do you suggest?”

“Grilled cheese,” she decided. “I’ll handle the actual cooking, but you can butter the bread.”

Mrs. Tompkins, who’d been watching the scene unfold, stepped aside as Vi marched to the cupboard and freed three loaves of bread. Juliette grabbed the butter and cheese from the cupboard and everything was dumped on the already cluttered island. As one, as though reading the other’s mind, they cleaned away Mrs. Tompkins’ss near attempt at chicken casserole.

“It’s nice to see you girls working together,” the woman said as the grilled cheese making process began.

“We just thought it would be a nice break for you,” Juliette said evenly. “You’re always making supper.”

“Always making chicken casserole,” Vi muttered under her breath and got kicked under the island by Juliette.

Mrs. Tompkins didn’t seem to hear her, to which Juliette was thankful. “You girls are such dolls. I’m certainly going to miss you both when I’m gone.”

Juliette chuckled uncertainly. “Gone? Gone where?”

She thought maybe the woman meant dead, but she still had loads of time left before thinking about that.

“My daughter wants me to move in with her,” the woman surprised them by saying. “She’s been asking for ages, but it wasn’t time.”

The buttering of bread was forgotten as both Juliette and Vi stared at her.