It happens exactly forty-five minutes after breakfast.
Eleanor is sitting in her favorite chair with her knitting—something elaborate and purple that she's been working on since she arrived. Lucas is in the study, probably talking to the ficus. I'm reading one of the books from my library, the secret rainbow bookshelf that Sophie declared was "the most beautiful thing she's ever seen." The penthouse is quiet and peaceful.
Then Eleanor looks up from her knitting and calls out toward the study.
"Young man. What was your name again?"
The penthouse goes silent. I look up from my book. Lucas appears in the study doorway. His expression is carefully neutral. His posture is perfect. His ears are their normal color, but I can see the slight tension in his jaw.
"Lucas Grey, Mrs. Chen. We've met several times."
"Have we? I don't remember." Eleanor squints at him. "You look familiar. Are you Vivian's young man?"
Lucas's ears go from normal to pink. "I'm her assistant, Mrs. Chen."
