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“I’m in a play of a kind. I’m pretending to be an elf.”

“I used to perform onstage too. I almost played Eliza in My Fair Lady.” Rose looked around the room, panic in her eyes. “Where am I? This isn’t my home — but my plants are here.”

She stepped toward the windowsill and touched the leaf of a peace lily.

“You’re safe here, Rose. Look at the photos of you,” Lucie urged, noticing a frame beside the plant. She picked one up, inhaling sharply at the face beside Rose’s. It was the woman whose arms she’d fallen into, the same woman who had been living rent-free inside her head ever since.

“Is this your daughter, Rose?”

The older woman’s face lit up at the sight of the portrait. “Yes, that’s Frances,” she said, tapping her face. “What is that doing here?” She took the frame and hugged it into her chest.

Shit!

The woman she’d been making eyes at was not only Rose’s neglectful daughter but her boss. The sound of keys jangling in the hallway caught both their attention.

“Mum,” a familiar voice called out. “Why is the door unlocked again?”

“Oh, that’s her,” Rose said. “That’s Frances.”

Butterflies flickered through her stomach as Lucie braced herself, unsure what to expect. What would her boss think of her being in her house?

Frances appeared, stopping immediately in the doorway as she spotted Lucie. “You?”

“Hi,” Lucie replied, her voice higher than she intended, her brain still trying to catch up.

“I told you I made an elf friend,” Rose insisted. “This is, oh, erm...”

“Lucie Brown,” Frances finished, her eyes fixed intently on her like a lion on a gazelle.

Lucie knew the look well, having seen the intensity firsthand on safari. How did the woman even know her name?

“You got a bit lost again, Rose, didn’t you?” Lucie said, unsure of what to say or do.

“Well, I can take it from here. Thank you,” Frances said pointedly.

Lucie hesitated, then moved towards Frances in the doorway. Rather than step aside, Frances edged back slightly, leaving just enough room for Lucie to squeeze past.

She realised just then that she hadn’t said goodbye to Rose, so she paused, millimetres from Frances.

“Bye, Rose. It was nice to see you again.”

“Stop by any time,” she called back, settling into her chair.

Lucie slipped past Frances so closely she got a hint of vanilla; it wasn’t sweet, more woody — and so nice she inhaled more deeply.

Lucie’s pulse picked up. What was this bloody woman doing to her?

“I suggest you don’t. It wouldn’t be appropriate,” Frances said, following her into the hallway.

For a moment, Lucie thought Frances might be referring to Lucie breathing her in but then realised she was referring to Rose’s invitation.

“What are you even doing here?” Frances asked sharply, closing the door to the sitting room.

“I found her lost and confused by the main staircase, saying she was going upstairs to her home.”

Frances’s jaw twitched. “Did anyone else see her? Staff, I mean?”

Lucie hesitated, confused by her question. “Erm, I don’t think so. I was discreet,” she said, the word catching in her mouth. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”