Chapter 16

Father glanced up from the newspaper he’d been buried behind and grunted when he saw me.

“You got in late enough last night,” he said.

“I climbed the tree outside my window. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

He grunted again. “Ridiculous method of entry.”

“Mother had the doors locked.”

He snapped the newspaper. “Should have given you a key long ago.” He returned to the latest international occurrences

Yes, he should have, and why hadn’t he? It was too late to inquire about that now. I helped myself to tea and toast, and took my seat at the far end of the table. “I didn’t expect you to come see us off,” I murmured to my brothers as I reached for the Marmalade. While I had the Synclaire eyes—deep blue—I had Mother’s dark looks. Along with them, I’d also inherited her inability to travel well, something else that filled my father with irritation.