Mia "This is the best food I've ever eaten," Alexander announced through a mouthful of French toast that left his cheeks sticky with syrup."Better than Mama's pancakes?" Ethan asked with the diplomatic concern of someone who didn't want to accidentally insult family cooking.Alexander considered this question with the seriousness it deserved. "Different good," he decided finally. "Mama's pancakes are home good. These are fancy good."Sophie laughed, the sound like silver wind chimes. "That's a very sophisticated distinction, mon petit. You understand that different occasions call for different kinds of perfection."Meanwhile, Scarlett had somehow convinced the restaurant to accommodate Gas, who lay beside our table with the dignified composure of a dog who belonged in five-star establishments. The waitstaff treated him like an honored guest, providing a crystal bowl of water and even offering him a small portion of plain grilled chicken, which he accepted with gracious politeness."
Mia's POVWomen's friendships were so simple, after all."The problem with most people," Scarlett was saying, examining Sophie's handbag with the reverence usually reserved for religious artifacts, "is that they think luxury is about price tags. But real luxury is about understanding quality.""Exactly!" Sophie's eyes lit up. "This bag, for instance—people see Hermès and think 'expensive.' But what they don't see is the hundred and eight individual stitches, the way the leather was aged for eighteen months, the fact that only three craftsmen in all of France are qualified to attach the hardware."Scarlett traced the edge of Sophie's handbag with one finger. "The craftsmanship is extraordinary. And this color—is it Rose Sakura?""Rose Confetti," Sophie corrected gently. "From the 2019 limited collection. They only made forty-seven bags in this shade.""Of course you would own one of forty-seven," Scarlett said. "I have a Kelly in Vert Bambou that I bought at auction last year. Took me
Mia's POVThe weight of disappointment settled in my chest."A feeling," I sighed."I understand your skepticism..""Sophie," I said carefully, "I appreciate everything you've done. Really. But Kyle is dying.""The universe has a peculiar sense of timing," Sophie interrupted. "Do you know when I first heard about you?"I shook my head."Eighteen months ago, when Kyle approached me about using my resources to investigate the networks threatening your family. He showed me photographs—you, the children, your little apartment, that ridiculous dog with his tongue always hanging out." Her smile was soft, remembering. "But what struck me wasn't the pictures themselves. It was the way Kyle's hands trembled when he held them."She removed her glasses, folding them. "This is a man who has faced down corporate raiders, hostile takeovers, death threats from business rivals. I have personally watched him negotiate billion-dollar deals without so much as a raised pulse. But photographs of his famil
MiaAlexander bounced slightly in his hospital bed, his natural enthusiasm overriding the heavy emotions of our conversation. "Are you going to help Kyle and Mama get back together?""Alexander," I warned, but Sophie was already laughing."Oh, mon petit, I think they can manage that all by themselves. Sometimes grown-ups just need a little time to figure out what's really important."She stood gracefully, smoothing down her impossibly elegant outfit with movements that looked choreographed. "First, I have a question for you."She moved to where Madison sat with her painting, crouching down to examine the little girl's artwork with genuine interest. "This is beautiful, ma petite. Is this your family?"Madison nodded shyly. "It's me and Alexander and Ethan and Mia and Kyle and Gas. We're all holding hands.""It's perfect," Sophie said softly, then straightened to face me. "Now, Mia, I want you to tell me all of you and Kyle."I glanced at the children, all of whom were suddenly paying v
Mia's POVSophie Field settled back into her chair with the fluid grace of someone who had never encountered an uncomfortable piece of furniture in her life. Her eyes moved over me with the methodical precision of an art appraiser examining a newly discovered canvas, taking inventory of details I wasn't even aware I possessed."Your skin," she said suddenly, tilting her head like a curious bird, "has this luminous quality. Like moonlight through frost-covered glass. The photographs Kyle showed me were lovely, but they completely failed to capture the way light seems to gather around your cheekbones."I touched my face self-consciously, feeling the warmth of what was probably a blush spreading across the very cheekbones she'd just complimented. "I look terrible," I said honestly. "I've been wearing the same clothes since yesterday, I slept in a hospital chair, and I haven't seen a mirror in—""Nonsense!" Sophie waved one perfectly manicured hand as if physically brushing away my object
Mia's POVThe morning light filtering through the hospital window had that particular quality of winter sunshine, weak and pale, like watercolor paint mixed with too much water. I'd been dozing in the uncomfortable reclining chair beside Alexander's bed, my neck stiff from sleeping at an awkward angle, when the soft sound of his voice pulled me back to consciousness."Mama, my tummy is making happy noises."I opened my eyes to find Alexander sitting up in his hospital bed, his dark hair sticking up in all directions, cheeks pink with health instead of fever. The IV in his small arm was still connected, but his eyes were bright and alert, no longer the glassy look of illness."Happy noises?" I asked, stretching the kink out of my neck as I sat up properly."Like when you make pancakes on Sunday mornings. Rumbling sounds that mean it's excited for food." Alexander pressed his hands against his stomach, grinning. "I think it's saying 'feed me, feed me, feed me.'"Ethan was curled up in t