Chapter 123

The contract was handwritten, in strokes defiant and sharp–clear signs that the girl who penned it wasn’t in the best of moods.

Everard’s initial thought was that the kid had pretty good handwriting, not too delicate, but with a certain firmness to it. Then he focused on the content.

  1. Hold hands once a day. If I don’t initiate, you keep your hands to yourself.

  2. One kiss per week, on my terms. Other than that, don’t even think about it or dream about it.

  3. No inviting yourself over to my place for dinner.

  4. Don’t call me unless it’s absolutely necessary!

  5. TBD. Will add more rules as I think of them.

Everard raised an eyebrow. Holding hands was already a daily routine; the kissing frequency seemed a bit low–surely exceptions could be made. As for dinner, a nod from her dad would sort that out, and for phone calls, “necessary” could be quite subjective.

As he mentally critiqued each rule, he looked up to see the girl staring at him seriously, her dewy eyes filled with solemnity, like a cat on the verge of a hissy fit, ready to pounce at any hint of bargaining.

He chuckled softly and answered, “Fine by me.”

Her tension eased at his agreement, and she picked up the breakfast she’d prepared and set it on the counter.

Everard, feeling proactive, took it and arranged the spread on the dining table.

and held his hand with even greater solemnity, making him too wary to tease her. A few minutes later, she released his hand and asked with a deadpan

was bemused. “I

much attention

was palpable. Synthetic fabric could cause static when rubbing against skin, which explained the tingling sensation during their hand–holding. She advised seriously, “You might find

conversation odd but knowing that the girl often had her own unique

to school.”

backpack

ambled toward the school gates, she noticed Yates with his fiery red hair bent over his phone,

them curiously.

phone. “I hired a martial arts instructor

Cordelia was puzzled.

time to train, and then I’ll be ready

“I

suddenly kicked Flame No. 1, who was still pretending to study: “Watch where

No. 1, indignant, opened the textbook to reveal a comic

stunned. “I thought it was an actual

No.1 laughed. “See, I can read during class, and

Cordelia felt enlightened.

a tragic novel, while Little Parrot dabbed at her tears. Cordelia returned to her thoughts of Everard, wondering if he too used

to the Delaney residence. A white Mercedes

on the couch while her grandfather’s therapy session took place behind closed doors. Cordelia joined them, discussing the artwork she had chosen, and the painting Lorna had failed to sell–a matter of little consequence to Mathilda,

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