It’s as she’s jumping up and down that her elbow knocks into the ceramic vase perched on the edge of the nightstand. The one Declan’s mom gave us last Christmas.
It crashes to the floor.
The sharp crack of porcelain hitting hardwood jerks me out of my fog.
Willow freezes. The rabbit tumbles from her arms. A spate of silence fills the room… until Emmett starts crying from where he’s lying on the bed.
I snap without thinking, my temper breaking free.
“I told you to get your suitcase and start packing!” I scold. “And how many times have I told you not to jump inside the house? You broke a vase your grandmother gave us!”
Willow’s eyes flood instantly, her lip quivering. “I’m s-sorry.”
Emmett’s wails only grow louder.
“Just… go, Willow. Please.”
She dashes from the room before I can even process the onslaught of guilt.
I let out a long, shaking breath and drop onto the edge of the bed. Emmett’s cries only get louder, more frantic, as if he’s matching the chaos crackling around us. My head throbs as my blood sugar monitor beeps against my waistband.
Low.
I reach for my purse before I remember it’s downstairs.
Of course it is.
A soft knock makes me look up.
Chelsea stands in the doorway, silhouetted by the natural light flooding the upstairs hall.
“Is everything alright?” she asks. “I thought I heard a crash.”
I manage a nod as Emmett writhes in my arms. “A vase was accidentally knocked over. Could you… would you mind checking on Willow for me? And maybe helping her get packed? We leave tonight, and there’s still a lot to do…”
“Of course, my dear,” Chelsea says, offering the same steady, unreadable smile she usually wears. A split second later, she slips back out of the room.
I shift Emmett higher on my shoulder and reach for the drawer on my nightstand. There’s a box of dark chocolates that I keep stashed inside for low-sugar emergencies. I unwrap one with trembling fingers and pop it into my mouth. The sugar hits my tongue and I close my eyes, willing the burst of glucose to settle me down.
My phone buzzes on the dresser. Declan’s name lights the screen.
I exhale, then answer, voice sounding smaller than I’d like. “Hey… please tell me you’re calling to say the trip’s canceled and we’re moving to Barbados instead.”
A low chuckle rumbles through the line. “Tempting, but no. I’m afraid you’re still stuck heading north with me and the goblins.”
I roll my eyes, dragging my hand across my forehead. “Don’t joke unless you mean it. I’ve had about five meltdowns already today, and it’s not even lunchtime.”
“Which is exactly why I hate to do this, love…” His tone shifts, losing any playfulness, and instead taking on an apologetic quality. “But I’ve got a big ask. And before you bite my head off, just know I’m desperate.”
I freeze in the middle of folding more of Emmett’s onesies. “Go on…”
“I need the USB from my office. The black one. I don’t know how, but I must’ve left it behind this morning in the mad rush out. I need it for a very big meeting with the other execs this afternoon. It’s really important. Nonnegotiable.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. “Can’t you just log into the cloud or something? I can email it to you.”
“No can do. It’s too big and encrypted to death. It won’t send, and it’s not on my drive—just that USB. Please, love. Maybe Chelsea can run it in? Just needs to be dropped at Waterloo station. I’ll meet whoever on the platform myself.”
“No, it’s fine,” I murmur, my voice tight. “I’ll do it. I’ll text you when I get to the station.”
