Page 90 of Moonlight Hearts

About twenty minutes later, there was a knock on our door, and I went to open it.I recognized Laura, who had her hair up in a braided bun and was wearing shiny shoes; just the kind of thing Florence might have enjoyed when she’d been little.

But the person next to Laura—the sitter, if that was who they were—was something else.For one thing, they wore a black veil over their all-black clothing, and an ankle-length dress under a black coat that made them look strict and fierce in equal measure.

“Amory Saintclair,” said a girl-like voice from under that veil, and the woman—girl—held out her hand to me.

“Yeah, hi.Hi, Laura.You’re the first guest.”

Laura frowned up at me.“Dwayne says that’s rude.I brought something to do.I’m making a scarf for him, which is a secret.Can I sit somewhere?”

I stepped aside and pointed.“Is the couch okay?”

Laura nodded and headed inside, letting her backpack slide off as she made her way to Soyer’s love seat.She wasn’t intimidated at all, which wasn’t quite how I remembered her.Maybe there was truth in what people said about children growing up fast.

“Kindly tell Mr.McArthur she has gone through all her schoolwork,” the veiled sitter said.

“Uh, sure.I thought there was no school for Thanksgiving week.Didn’t know that had changed.”

“Saint Auguste only takes a Midwinter break, but I believe Mr.McArthur gave them a note to allow her to stay home tomorrow.”

“Oh.That’s good, I guess.Would you like to come in as well?Have some cider before you go?”

I couldn’t quite make out the words over the cooking noises, but Soyer and Laura were talking.The kid hadn’t made it to the couch, instead she’d gone left to the kitchen.

“I would be imposing, and I have no intention of doing that.Have a wonderful party.Small and big joys ought to be celebrated whenever we can.My greetings to your Black Shuck.”

“Thanks, I’ll tell him.”

She walked back to the elevator, her long coat reminding me of Soyer’s, oddly enough.

I closed the door and joined Laura and Soyer in the kitchen.“Her sitter says hi.Laura, I forgot to ask her name.What is it?”

Laura was on her knees in front of the oven, watching the pumpkin.“I can’t say.It’s a secret.But you can call her Black Widow.”

I cocked my head.“Like the spider?”

Soyer looked up from plating a few cookies and pouring a small cup of cider.“The double meaning is probably intentional.The black widow gave you her name, kid?”

“Yeah.But I can’t tell you either.”

He raised his left eyebrow.“Fair enough.You shouldn’t break a promise you’ve made a black widow.So, you want these cookies while you knit or not?”

Laura looked up at him.“I want them.Where did you get this giant pumpkin?”

“From the ghost of Halloween.”He pointed to our table, where I’d folded the napkins.“You can sit there with Amory.If you can teach him how to knit, you’ll get a cash reward.”

Her eyes went big.“Do you mean that?”

“Yup.”

Laura looked at me.“It’s not difficult.I’ll show you.Come on.”

I didn’t get to ask what a black widow was, but about half an hour later, I’d produced a blob of fabric.

“The fuck is that?”Soyer asked, refilling both Laura’s and my cups.

I hissed at him, glancing at Laura for emphasis.“Soyer, language.”

He put his hand on his hip.“I know it’s fucking language.Expressing myself in interpretive dance is too much work.”