EMILY
I balanced the box of cookies in one hand and knocked with the other, hoping Grace wasn’t in the middle of a nap or a magical meltdown. The cookies were still warm — cinnamon, honey, and a dash of moonflower essence. Comfort food. Goddess knows we all needed it.
I stepped through the door just as I heard voices from the study.
Alistair’s voice. Grace’s voice.
I froze.
They were talking about Dawn.
My heart skipped.
I took one step forward and the box nearly slipped from my hands. I caught it with a squeak and a muttered curse. Grace turned toward me, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Em?” she said. “You okay?”
“Just dropped a cookie. Tragedy,” I said, forcing a smile. “I brought snacks. Figured you could use a break from all the doom and destiny.”
Alistair gave me a nod, polite
