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“I’m good here.” I clear my throat. “Is Aiden around?”

“Yeah, he —”

“Sweetheart?” His voice filters in from the top of the stairs. “What did I say about opening the door? I’m the only one who does it. No one gets to look at you in those tiny clothes.”

“There he is.” Elsa shakes her head and whispers, “Sorry about that.”

“You don’t need to apologise.” A small smile grazes my lips, remembering how Jonathan acted this morning in front of Ethan.

Like father, like son.

My smile falls when Aiden joins his wife and watches me with a furrowed brow. Like her, he’s wearing cotton trousers and a simple white T-shirt. His black hair is tousled, and I can’t help staring at the small mole at the edge of his right eye — the only physical feature he inherited from Alicia.

He places an arm around Elsa’s waist and pulls her to his side, almost as if he wants to protect her from me. “What are you doing here?”

She elbows him. “Is that a way to treat our guest? She came all the way from London during this rain.”

“She’s not my guest.” He continues to study me, probably waiting for an answer to his question.

“I…I want to ask you something.”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

Elsa pulls away from his hold, glaring him down, even though he’s way taller than her. She then takes my hand and leads me inside and seats me on the sofa, despite my attempt to protest.

By the time she brings a fluffy towel and wraps it around my shoulders, Aiden has followed after, his hands in his pockets. His grey eyes narrow on me as if I’m a liability he needs to get rid of.

“I’ll go get you something hot to drink.” She smiles at me, then stares at Aiden. “Be nice.”

“I’m anything but nice, remember?” He gives her an undecipherable glance, and although I can’t quite read it, Elsa’s cheeks redden.

It’s fascinating how they can understand each other with a mere look.

That’s how Jonathan made me sit on his lap or lie on my stomach. Sometimes, he didn’t have to say a word, and even if he did, it was because I was acting out to hear his commanding tone.

I shut the door on that thought and him. Jonathan is the last thing I need on my mind right now.

He doesn’t want to touch me anymore. He thinks I’m insane.

Dickhead.

I try to erase him by focusing on the scene in front of me.

Elsa runs her fingers up Aiden’s chest and whispers something in his ear. His left eye twitches, but his expression remains the same as she disappears around the corner.

Aiden watches her back, then his attention snaps to me — dark and unreadable. Just like his damn father.

He sits opposite me, and I tighten my hold on the towel.

“Get on with it,” he speaks in his stone-cold tone. “The faster you do, the sooner you’ll be out of here.”

What a great host. But I don’t say that. “When you were younger, did you notice something wrong with Alicia?”

I’m almost sure he’s taken aback by the question, but his features quickly return to their normal coldness. “What is this about?”

“Margot said Alicia had episodes where she roamed the house during the night and made things up. She also scribbled over books and walls and —”

“Shut up.” Aiden’s jaw tightens.

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