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“Come on. Let’s get you something warm to drink,” Brigette says, taking charge and wrapping one arm around her shoulders, herding her toward the kitchen. “The inquisition will have to wait,” she says to Connor, who looks shocked that she spoke to him that way.
I pick up the duffel and rush it to the laundry room before it can soak the rest of the floor. I dump the clothing out in the washer and put in some detergent, setting it to run without even looking to see what all I’m washing together.
Does it really matter at this point?
I climb the stairs two at a time, headache forgotten, and barge into my room, gathering some comfortable clothes for her to wear so she can get out of her wet ones. I’m a bit bigger than her, but that shouldn’t matter—she can roll the sleeves and pant legs if needed.
A moment later, I’m back in the kitchen, hands full of a bundle of clothes and eyes on me.
“I thought you might want to change into something dry,” I tell her, smiling, and I’m rewarded with a tentative smile in return. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed the company of a girl with Ruby and now Lilliana gone until that grin. It makes me tear up, but I quickly blink the droplets away. It’s not about me right now.
“There’s a small room back here, where you can change,” Brigette says, taking the clothes from my hands and then leading Francesca that way.
She returns to brewing a pot of tea once the door shuts behind Francesca, and we all start to whisper.
“What do you think she’s doing here?” I ask Connor, having nothing else to go on.
“It looks like she’s seeking asylum,” Geo says.
I spin to face him. “Asylum? Is something wrong?”
Connor and Geo share a look, and my eyes narrow between them. They don’t offer me any more information.
“Come to think of it, where is Fernando? It’s been a while since I saw him,” I muse aloud and notice Connor’s fingers drumming against the tabletop. So, somethingisgoing on. “Why are you keeping me in the dark?” I all but yell at the two of them. I’ve about had it with the cloak-and-dagger dance going on around me.
“Hush,” Connor says, grabbing my arm in a tight grip and circling me to face him. “We will discuss this later.”
His attention is snagged by something over my shoulder, and I turn to see Francesca coming out of the back room, her wet clothes clutched to her chest, leaving a wet spot on the dry shirt I gave her. Brigette crosses and gently takes it from her, laying them on the table until she can get to the laundry room.
“Sit, sit,” she says, pulling out a stool and pushing lightly on Francesca’s shoulders until she’s perched on top of it. Then, she slides a steaming hot cup of tea in front of her.
Francesca wraps her delicate fingers around the cup, warming them while we all wait on pins and needles.
“Start talking,” Connor says gruffly.
I fight the urge to punch him for his insensitivity. And possibly because I think a good punch would be cathartic for me right now. Especially if it was Connor’s face at the end of my fist.
I think he can sense the direction my thoughts have gone in because he releases my arm, and I stumble to the side as he closes in on Francesca. Damn him and Geo for leaving me in the dark. I don’t understand their need to know right now. Can’t they see that she’s scared and cold and she probably needs room to breathe?
“I, uh, came here because Fern told me to,” she says, her hands never leaving the hot teacup.
“The night at the club?” Geo asks, and Francesca’s eyes jump to him before she gives a quick nod.
“Why did it take you so long to come here after that night?” Connor asks.
“I was scared. I stayed at a hotel for a bit, but I’m out of cash. I had to do something.”
“Why were you there at the club?”
She swallows, her gaze darting wildly around the room. I step forward, but Connor must sense it because his arm shoots out, stopping me, and I glare at him.
Bastard.
“I was looking for Fern. For you. For anyone,” she says, staring at the tabletop.
“And why did you go there?”
“I knew your family owned the club. I was trying to ask around to see how to find you. Then, Fern was there, like I’d conjured him out of thin air,” she says, waving her hand around in the air, looking up. “Then, he was gone, pulled outside into the alley, and I—I—” She breaks off in a sob, and I reach her side, rubbing her arm to console her.
