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“Of course I can.” I passed her her handbag from the hooks and opened the door for her. “Are you all right to drive?”

“Yes, yes. My goodness, you’re sweet.” She touched my arm. “Olympia is upstairs. Are you sure you—”

“Yes, I’m sure. Please, go. Don’t worry about calling. I’ll make sure everyone knows what’s going on. If you need anything at all, let me know and I’ll see what I can do to help, all right? Your husband, too.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She squeezed my arm before she rushed out of the door and across the circular driveway to where the household staff all parked their cars. She got into hers and pulled away, and I waved her goodbye before stepping inside and closing the door behind me.

Time to find Olympia.

And, well, everyone else.

Where was everyone? And why did everyone in this place have a tendency to disappear?

I trudged upstairs to Olympia’s bedroom and knocked on the door. “Olympia? Are you in there?”

“Oh, no!” she called from inside. “Wait! Don’t come in!”

I stilled. “Are you all right? Do you need any help?”

“No! I’m fine!”

There was a shuffle and the sound of her muttering something unintelligible.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Wait a second! Ooft, ouch!”

What on Earth was she doing in there?

“Stupid bed!”

Ah.

I’d put money on her stubbing her toe.

There was the sound of a door shutting, and seconds later, she opened her bedroom door. “Hi, Addy. Did Mrs. Berry leave?”

I eyed her. “Yes, to take her daughter to the hospital to have her baby. What have you been doing in here?”

“Nothing.” Olympia looked at me with wide eyes, quickly diverting her gaze over my shoulder. “Are you in charge now?”

“Mhmm. I’m in charge.” I peered over the top of her head. “Can I see your room?”

“Umm.”

“Olympia.”

“Fine.” She sighed and stepped to the side, and I quickly moved into her room before she could change her mind.

It was… strangely normal, for a child who’d just made a fuss about me coming in. Taylor Swift played quietly from the bright pink CD player on her windowsill, and her stuffed animals filled the fireplace that was no longer in operation. Her double bed was made, with the exception of a pillow that was at the wrong end, next to her Nintendo Switch that had a Pokémon dancing on the screen.

It was… too tidy.

Except…

“Olympia, why is there a ball of wool under your bed?”

“Mrs. Berry was teaching me knitting,” she said, sitting on her bed. “I shoved it under there while trying to tidy up.”

Right.

“I don’t trust you,” I mused, fighting a smile. “Where’s your dad? Or grandma?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think Papa is working, and Granny said this morning she was going to pick something up.”

“Right. I don’t suppose you know when either of them will be back?”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry. Boris will be here all day.”

“I’ll go and find him, I think. Are you all right up here for a while?”

“Yep,” she replied brightly. “I’m playing Pokémon!” She picked up the Switch and waved it in my direction, and I saw the Pokémon in question was Eevee.

Aw. I used to love that one.

“Right. Would you like some water? I’ll bring you some up.”

“Yes, please.” She crossed her legs, put the pillow on her lap, and turned her attention to the Switch.

“Don’t lean over like that,” I said without thinking. “You’ll hurt your neck. Lean against your headboard instead.”

Olympia glanced at me before she shuffled back and put a pillow behind her, then bent her knees and rested her Switch on top of them. “Like this?”

“Yes. Thank you. I don’t want you to get sore.” I hesitated. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

She was no longer looking at me, so I backed out of the room and pulled her door closed, quickly knocking it away from the latch so I could push it open without her noticing.

And then, I waited.

A few minutes passed before the sounds of her bed creaking eked through the door and the music from her Switch stopped. Taylor Swift still played in the background, but that was broken by the opening of what I thought was her wardrobe door.

“Oh, Phoebe. That was a close one,” Olympia said softly.

Phoebe?

The cat?

She had the bloody cat in her room!

“Olympia!” I pushed the door open and gasped at her.

She was standing in front of the wardrobe, horror splashed across her features, with her arms wrapped around the black cat. Who, to her credit, eyed me with the same disdain she had yesterday in the library. “You spied on me!” Olympia shouted.

“You lied to me!” I pointed to the cat. “You told me you weren’t doing anything!”

She averted her gaze.

“Olympia, why is the cat in your bedroom?”

She didn’t reply, just kept holding onto the cat.

Phoebe was very compliant, I’d give her that. She was just sort of… hanging there… in her arms, and she didn’t even wriggle.

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