“I’m okay,” she says, catching my look.
“Sure?” I give her hand a squeeze.
“Yeah. It’s kind of nice. Please tell me you haven’t been waiting there all morning?” She eyes my pajama-clad form up and down.
I glance back at her. With her perfectly flicked eyeliner and vintage army jacket, she doesn’t look like I do when I’m traveling—I much prefer comfort over style if I’m stuck on the train. ButIzzy looks immaculate as always, her brown skin dewy and lightly freckled. She’s always been a stunner.
“I love the hair, by the way.” When I saw her a few days ago she had braids almost to her waist, so the chin-length natural curls are a huge change. “When did you get so cool?” I joke.
“I’ve always been cool,” she replies, fluffing out her hair. “And if you tell anyone I wasn’t, there’ll be trouble.”
“I’ll keep your secret.” I grab her case and haul it up the steps to the front door. “Dad, Izzy’s here!” I shout into the hallway.
Izzy follows, closing the door as I wheel her case down the hallway. Dad pokes his head out of his bedroom.
“Izzy! Look at all your stuff! You should have let me collect you from the train station.”
“Hey, Michael. Don’t worry, it was fine. It’s like a two-minute walk,” she says, following me to our bedroom. Dad trails behind and hovers in the doorway as we dump her stuff onto the sofabed.
“How are you? How are your mom and Sophie doing?”
“Okay, thanks,” Izzy replies awkwardly.
Dad hasn’t seen Izzy since her dad died, and I’m under strict orders not to mention her sister while we’re here. Sophie is two years younger than us and was diagnosed with an eating disorder last summer. It’s been really tough on Izzy, and her mom hasn’t been around much, between taking Sophie to various appointments and her job as a midwife.
Izzy quickly changes the subject. “Thank you for letting me stay. It’s nice to be back here.”
“No problem! Just don’t burn the house down,” Dad jokes,and I roll my eyes as he smiles at me and checks his watch. “I need to run this painting to the gallery before we go and then the taxi should be here about ten. I’ll shout when we’re leaving.”
“Okay, Dad.” I widen my eyes in Izzy’s direction and she giggles as we head to my room. The freedom is so close I can almost taste it.
“Ten days on our own,” she whispers.
“I know!” I whisper back as she grabs me and we do the most silent jumpy-up-and-down dance around the room we can manage before landing on my bed. I scoot up to the top and sit cross-legged and she kicks off her sandals and does the same, facing me. “Any goss?”
“Since I talked to you this morning? No.” She laughs, showing the gap in her teeth that she hates but I love. “Tell me about the wedding.”
“It was fine.” I shrug, and she raises her eyebrows. “It was nice. Kim is…nice.”
“Oof, two nices. Kiss of death.”
“You know what I mean. They seem happy together.”
“Good,” Izzy says firmly. “Let’s hope they have such a great honeymoon they can’t wait to go away and let us house-sit again.”
Izzy starts gabbing about the creative arts program and her project ideas, and I try to decide what I want to achieve from it while Izzy throws around words like “weaving” and “embroidery.” She’s always so hands-on and hates the research side of things, whereas if you put me in front of some archives for the day, I’d be a happy little camper.
“Fliss? Hellooooo.” Izzy waves a hand in front of my face,and I blink her back into focus. “There you are. You need a coffee?”
“No, sorry. I was just thinking about my own project, that’s all.” I remember the papers I meant to give Dad, but he’s already gone. Should I even bother him with them now? Surely they can wait until he gets back.
“And?” Izzy asks.
“Dad suggested that I write about that painting we found, and I dismissed it to start, but I think there’s a true-crime link to it that I can research.”
“That’s cool. Is it really some long-lost masterpiece?”
“Apparently.” I get up so I can critically evaluate my wardrobe for the day, and Izzy follows. I say wardrobe—everything is currently still a huge jumble in my suitcase. “Dad told me that it’s linked to some valuable paintings already in the gallery and that they were all found at a crime scene together, but I don’t know much more than that.”