“This is Claire,” Julian said softly. “She is our new housekeeper.”

Vanessa laughed, a dry, humorless sound that died instantly in the wind.

“A housekeeper with baggage,” Vanessa said, looking at my faded winter coat.

“I don’t remember agreeing to run a daycare at Mercer House, Julian.”

“She works hard, Vanessa,” Julian said.

His voice was low, devoid of emotion, yet there was a hardness underneath it.

“We are planning a wedding, Julian,” she said, stepping down to join him.

“The caterers are coming. The florists. The press.”

She pointed a manicured finger at Emma.

“I cannot have local children running around ruining the aesthetic of my estate.”

“It is my estate, Vanessa,” Julian said.

The words were quiet, but they carried weight.

Vanessa stiffened inside her white fur.

“It will be ours in three months,” she replied, her chin lifting.

She turned her back on us and walked toward the heavy oak front doors.

“Get her out of my sight,” Vanessa called over her shoulder.

I held Emma tighter, her little heart beating fast against my chest.

“Go inside, Claire,” Julian told me.