Page 51 of Glass

There are at least three cupboards full. Ellen nods gratefully. “Would you?”

“Of course.” Wiping off the last of the wood, I tuck the cloth into my basket and stand, stretching out the kinks in my neck. “I’ll get the first lot now.”

It’s mid-morning. There’s no reason for any of the Tate brothers to still be hanging around in the dining room.

But when I walk in, a pair of violet eyes lock with mine.

“Kit,” I breathe. I haven’t seen him since my little stint in Silas’s bed. He straightens in his seat, eyes scanning me. It feels like he’s inspecting me.

“Stasi.” He smiles. “You’re well?”

I nod, taking in the papers spread across the table with growing curiosity. “I don’t want to disturb you.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not. Do whatever you need to.”

Slowly, I move around him, feeling his eyes on my back as I reach into the first cupboard for the cutlery.

He breaks the silence. “Ellen’s doing her spring cleaning, huh?”

Gathering up the spoons, I turn and place them down in the small amount of free space left on the table, at the other end to where he sits. “She is.”

The papers are spread almost to where I’m standing, and I glance over one with mild interest. I haven’t been given access to any news since I’ve been here.

My attention snags on the photograph of Ella.

“You can look.” Kit’s voice is soft. “If you want to.”

“I…,” Curious, I take him at his word and draw the page towards me.

The words jump out as I scan them, and my eyebrows raise before I can stop myself, a small laugh slipping out. Kit’s eyes are focused on my face when I glance up.

“Would you know anything about that?” He points to the words in my hand.

Swallowing, I drop it as if it’s on fire and spin back to the cupboard, grabbing blindly for the first thing I can reach. “Why would I?”

“Stasi.” His voice is firmer now. My shoulders tighten as I feel him moving closer. Tanned hands wrap around mine as he takes the set of bowls from me.

He’s so close.

“You don’t need to help,” I whisper. “I’ve got it.”

But he doesn’t move.

“It’s curious,” he murmurs.

The words brush against my neck, making me shiver. “What is?”

He hums, and I swear I can feel the vibration, feel it soak into me as he moves a little closer. His lips almost brush my ear. “That your sister seems to be losing staff by the dozen. Seems they don’t want to work for our precious, supposedly sugar-sweet princess. Any idea why that would be?”

I stiffen.

Pain. So much pain.

“No.” My tone is abrupt, and Kit pauses. “And she’s not my sister.”

“I don’t believe you.” His words are blunt, and I take a breath. A deep one. My tone is dry when I respond.

“You’re not the only one.”