Chapter 15: Chapter 15

“I don’t like him.” She doesn’t bother to lower her voice.

“I don’t care.”

At the desk, I motion for Maeve to stand, and then hold the chair out for Coby. “Have a seat,” I say with an apologetic smile. When he does, I set the eggs in front of him and whisper, “Don’t mind them.”

But it’s hard not to. Delia leans against a nearby counter, her arms crossed in front of her chest, and glares at him while he eats. Maeve, following her lead, keeps throwing nasty glances his way as she sweeps the floor. The kitchen feels small and cramped and crowded, almost as hostile as the place did last night when it was filled with regulators.

Brushing past Delia, I wash the pan and few dishes already in the sink. “Isn’t there work to do?” Her jaw tightens when she turns to look at me. Before she can say anything, I warn, “Don’t start. Not now.”