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She beams at me.

“You smile a little like your aunt,” I tell her, noting the family resemblance. Looks like every Halle girl comes with the same sunset-blue eyes.

Grandma’s old showcase of architectural models sits just above Millie’s drawing and catches her eyes. “What’s those?”

“Model buildings. All real ones. The greatest projects my grandparents brought to life. Want a closer look?” I ask.

She nods.

I scoop her up for a better view as Tiffany looks on.

“You can take a break if you want. I’m between calls right now and Millie wants to hear about the models. Feel free to run down and grab a coffee,” I tell her.

“Oh, perfect! I haven’t had a break since naptime.” Tiffany hurries out of the room yawning.

“You see that little house there?” I tell the little girl, tapping the glass with my free hand. “Grandma designed it for a man in California, Landon Strauss. His wife, McKenna—I think—she’s a big-time author and he owns this secret-agent bodyguard firm called Enguard. Anyway, he wanted to surprise his lady with a homey cottage to write in with all the good stuff that makes life easy. On the outside, it’s like a Grimm fairy tale. Inside, a luxury dream to make every prince on the planet jealous. There’s even a secret passage or two, just like a castle.”

“Castle! Sekwit passage!” Millie claps her hands, trying her best to pronounce the words.

“Kiddo, has anyone ever told you you’re adorable?”

“Doll houses,” she whispers, almost conspiratorially.

“What?”

“You got a lot of dolly houses, mister. Does that mean you have dolls?”

What’s she talking about? It takes me a minute. I laugh.

Of course. I should’ve explained it to her first.

“They do look like doll houses, huh? Except these doll houses really exist, somewhere around the world, and you can walk inside them. Do you know what we do in this office, Millie?”

“Yeah, you...you drive fancy cars!”

I chuckle.

“That’s what your Aunt Reese does. I work with a team that designs buildings for people, just like my brother and our grandparents before us. To make sure we’re doing what they want, sometimes we make a tiny sample to show them. Most of the time, the client likes the model. I help make sure we get the real one built looking just as nice. Every now and then, the client isn’t happy with the design and we have to come up with something else. Most of these have become real buildings in Chicago, New York, LA, Toronto, Brussels, and lots of other places. My grandparents created most of the ’dollhouses’ in this case, but Ward and I helped with the newer ones like the California cottage.”

My eyes flick proudly to the hyper-modern green dreamscapes on the top shelf, the last ten years’ worth of Grandma’s best designs that also have a piece of us forever.

Millie covers my face with her little hands. “I want grandparents.”

Oof. What the hell do I say to that?

Anything feels too hollow. My parents were about as screwed up as Millie’s. I wouldn’t have survived them without my grandparents, and neither would Ward.

Luckily, she has a kick-ass aunt who tries insanely hard to keep her wearing that fluttery smile. “You have Reese, and she loves you. That’s just as good as two grandparents. I never had an aunt, nothing like—”

“So you think you’ll use the kid to butter me up?” a playful voice cuts in.

There’s no mistaking it.

I turn to the doorway to find Reese, ravishing as ever in a hunter-green dress. Her morning-blue eyes sparkle like waters against the deep summer green. As if that weren’t enough, the setting sun splashes light through Grandma’s oversized windows, until she glitters like an angel.

I’m fucking awestruck.

“You’re beautiful,” I grind out before I can stop myself.

Apparently, my tongue moves faster than my brain.

Her cheeks bloom rose-pink. “Um, thank you?”

I’m not taking it back. A long silence yawns between us.

Then Millie slaps my face with her palms. “Want Auntie Reese!”

“You’re a bossy little lady. Must run in the family,” I say.

“Auntie Reese!” she whines, reaching out her stubby arms.

“What if I turn you upside down and you get to meet the Tickle Monster instead?”

Millie squeals. “No monster!”

With Reese watching, I flip the kid over in my arms, but hold off on the tickles before she’s right side up again. She’s squirming and laughing when I lower her to the floor.

Reese’s eyes trail from me to Millie. She smiles and opens her mouth like she’s about to say something kind, but closes it immediately.

“Any news?” I don’t want another awkward silence consuming us.

“Not much. The attorney spoke to Abby and followed up with me yesterday, but I don’t know if my sister’s talking. Will is still M-I-A.” She sighs. “Next week will be better, I promise. Life has to go on, and I’m determined to get through this with as much normalcy intact as possible. For everyone. I’m realistic about the court case...this could take months—or even years. I just have to keep on going. Make it the new normal.”

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