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“Thank you.” Sonya kissed Owen, then turned to Trey. “And thank you to the assistant builder.” And kissed him before she laughed.

The cat perched on the roof of Yoda’s house.

“Another seal of approval. Let’s go in. I’ve got another tale to tell, and I’m ready for wine.”

“Trey filled me in on the last one. What’s she cooking?”

“I don’t know. Something that goes with mashed potatoes and peas.”

As they trooped into the kitchen, Owen sniffed the air. Then he moved around Cleo while she riced boiled potatoes, and opened the oven.

“You made meatloaf.”

“I decided to try my hand at it.”

Before she could reach for another potato, he swung her around, dipped her low, and kissed her.

Then swung her back up, fluidly. “Meatloaf does that to me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She went back to her potatoes, but smiled.

“And I say Cleo’s meatloaf calls for red wine,” Sonya announced.

“I’ll get it.” Trey went to the butler’s pantry for a bottle. “Let’s hear the tale.”

Sonya got out plates. “You could say the mirror came to me again. Only this morning, when I was wide awake. And in the library.”

She put the plates on the table, went back for flatware.

“Your instinct’s going to be to get upset.” She glanced over as he uncorked the wine. “Try to hold back on that until I finish.”

He poured wine, handed her a glass. “You can’t finish unless you start. Let’s hear it.”

Chapter Eighteen

He didn’t interrupt, nor did Owen. It was Cleo who interrupted the story.

“We’re going to eat this while it’s hot. Sonya can finish while we do. Owen, take this bowl of potatoes to the table. Trey, you can take the peas.”

At the table, Cleo sliced the meatloaf, served it while Sonya told them about Dobbs and her appearance on the library stairs, and all that happened after.

When she was done, Trey took a slow sip of wine.

“We agreed you’d call me.”

“Trey, Cleo was just down the hall. I could’ve shouted for her, or gone to get her. And I started to. But… I can’t explain it, not rationally, but it was the same as the night in the ballroom. I had to go through. I needed to. Not a whim, not thinking I’d just handle it myself. A need.”

“It wasn’t like that for me,” Owen said. “I didn’t feel that—pull, you called it. I felt something, but not that. But I know you did.”

He met Sonya’s eyes, then shifted his gaze to Trey’s.

“You know that, too. It’s hard not to be here when shit happens, but shit’s going to happen.”

“I was wobbly when I came back,” she admitted. “Then Cleo was right there. I know it sounds crazy, but I think it was, somehow, timed that way. Timed for me to go in, come out, for Cleo to get up and come.”

“It doesn’t sound crazy.” Briefly, Trey laid a hand over hers. “It doesn’t. And Owen’s right, I do know, and it is hard. And getting past that, there’s a lot more here. She didn’t see you, and she has before. And you brought something back with you.”