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“Correct.”

“For what it would be worth if it wasn’t falling apart.”

“Yes.”

“And you pay for the repairs.”

“Precisely.”

She sits back. Looks around. Then looks at me. “How are you going to access funds in a trust to pay for said repairs?”

I grin. “There is money inside the house?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m certain someone would have found it by now.”

“I do not believe so.”

“Where is it?”

“That information shall be shared once we’re in agreement,” I say.

She’s quiet for a few minutes before asking, “What’s the catch?”

I almost smile. “An intelligent question.”

“Thank you.”

“There is no catch.”

She narrows her eyes. “There’s always a catch.”

“Not in this instance.”

“Gabriel.”

“April.”

She points at me. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Say my name like you’re scolding me. I am not a child.”

I raise an eyebrow. “This, I have noticed.”

Something flickers in her eyes. Her cheeks turn pink. She clears her throat.

“Anyway. What happens if we can’t break your curse?”

I hesitate.

A reasonable question, and one I haven’t fully considered. Because the possibility of remaining trapped forever is not something I care to contemplate.

“We’ll establish a reasonable time frame,” I say.

“How reasonable?”

“Six months.”