Evelyn’s POV

The front door opened and shut with a thud. Claire’s heels clicked in fast, tired rhythm before she called out, “Ev? You still alive?”

“Barely,” I said from the kitchen, sipping cold tea.

She appeared in the doorway, dropping her bag on a chair. “So? How’d today go?”

I shrugged. “Eventful.”

She raised a brow. “Eventful as in… gardening? Or eventful as in—Gideon?”

I avoided ...