Evie’s pillow wasn’t under her head.
Birds chirping in the window signaled morning had come, but she wasn’t in her own bed. The events of last night came rushing back, along with the fact she’d passed out on the small sofa in her family’s comfy sitting area, with a small blanket and a pillow that had decided it no longer wanted to be under her head at some point in the night.
Groaning, she reached around for it and almost yelped when she felt a human head.
Eyes shooting open, Evie saw her sister standing next to her, a mug of steaming liquid between them. “I made you some tea,” she said so proudly Evie’s heart cracked.
She sat up slowly, her body screaming in protest. Her thigh muscles ached from the short ride home, not used to the motions of riding. When she’d returned, the cottage was quiet, her neighbor knitting on the couch. After Evie had sent the older woman home with a grateful thank-you and a quarter of Evie’s pay from the week prior, she hadn’t possessed the energy to make it to her bed.
She’d collapsed on the couch, still in her dress from the night before, torn and covered in dried blood. Evie’s face heated when she realized, and she clutched the blanket up toward her, but it was too late. It had slipped low enough that Lyssa jumped, her dark head of curls bouncing with her.
“What happened to your dress, Evie?” Her sister’s eyes were wide with horror.
“I ran into a little trouble last night, but I’m okay, and so is everyone that matters,” she said, hoping that was enough.
Lyssa still looked worried, making Evie wince, but she nodded and handed Evie the steaming mug.
“Is that okay?” Evie asked fearfully. Because in all honesty, she was doing her very best at being her sister’s only parent, and she wasn’t sure that was a very good job to begin with. She knew her father tried, but he’d only been lightly involved with Lyssa’s upbringing before he grew ill, and now he just seemed to be a figure to slip in and out to give her entertainment.
“Yes, it is,” Lyssa said, eyes clear.
Evie smiled as she sipped the tea—and immediately spit it out. “Lyssa, this is awful.” She hacked and coughed the bitter vinegar taste of it off her tongue.
“Oh! I cleaned the teakettle yesterday. Could that be why?” her sister said with false innocence.
“Did you use vinegar?” Evie narrowed her eyes, holding up her hands as if she was about to pounce, and Lyssa began to giggle.
“No!” she screeched as Evie bent over to tickle her. They both laughed until they were crying and rolling to the floor to get the upper hand. Evie was bigger, but Lyssa had the relentless determination of a child that believed she could accomplish anything; it was enough for Evie to concede.
“I surrender! You win!” Her voice was hoarse from the joy, and she sat up, her smile slipping when she saw Lyssa staring at the blood on her dress once more.
“You promise nobody got hurt?” Lyssa asked skeptically.
“Nobody that you care for.” It was as close to the truth as she could concede, because a lot of people had died last night—but telling Lyssa that was pointless; Evie would never allow her sister near that sort of danger. She thought of the traitor leaving the note for her, in their home, in her bedroom, and shuddered.
Lyssa saw the subtle move and frowned, asking, “What’s wrong?”
Evie bit her lip, attempting to find the right words. “There’s a rat loose in the manor house I work in, and it’s terrible. It’s eating the food, breaking things, riling the cat, and for the life of me, no matter what I do, I can’t seem to catch it.”
Lyssa tapped her chin with the tip of her finger. “Have you been looking in all the right places?”
“Everywhere they would be,” Evie said, nodding.
“What about everywhere they wouldn’t be?”
The words rang like a bell.
Was Lyssa right? Was Evie too focused on looking in all the most obvious places? Too focused on making lists to truly look at what was in front of her own eyes?
“I think you need to stop going to school. It’s making you too smart. I don’t like it.” Evie bumped her shoulder against Lyssa’s. “Have you looked in on Papa this morning?”
Lyssa picked up the mug of foul liquid, and Evie followed her into the kitchen, where she dumped it out the window. “He left for a walk about ten minutes ago. He said he was feeling fresh…or maybe it was refreshed? Anyway, he didn’t want to wake you.”
Evie’s heart felt lighter at that piece of news. “I’m glad.” She turned her head and did a double take at the clock. “Does that say ten o’clock!” Evie yelped, remembering that while the rest of the office had been given the day off while The Villain searched for the traitor, Evie most certainly had not.
“I’m late for work!” she screeched, bolting for her room to change. Evie was halfway through the door before she turned to look at her sister. “And you’re late for school,” she said in a singsong voice, making Lyssa groan.
She smiled. Maybe she was doing a good job as a replacement parent after all.
But her smile faltered as she pulled the soiled and damaged dress from her shoulders, exposing a massive bruise on her upper arm. She shuddered as she recalled those who had fallen last night under the guvre’s venom—their flesh not just bruised but melted from their bones.
Her stomach twisted as she hurried to dress, unsettled that the traitor kept besting them—and there was no telling what sort of damage they would inflict next.
