Page 69 of Seen Knot Heard

He grimaces. “She was being homeschooled before. Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper, was in charge of overseeing her schoolwork. She’s advanced in her reading and writing, but I have no idea where she stands in other subjects.”

“What happened to Mrs. Reynolds?” I ask.

His shoulders lift. “As far as I know, she’s still taking care of Sadie’s penthouse while my sister is in rehab. We talked about poaching her to help with Quinn, but Sadie’s familiar with her,and she’s going to need help when she gets released. I don’t want to completely upend her life.”

The child in me who always wanted to please her mom demands I offer to help, but I know nothing about how to homeschool a child or even where to start. Plus, I need to return to work soon, whatever that will look like.

All my time since returning from Louie’s has been focused on recuperating and bonding. But at some point, I need to open my laptop and figure out how much of a mess my career is in right now.

“We’ll figure it out.” Blake presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll try to contact Mrs. Reynolds to see if she’ll give me Quinn’s schooling information, but I don’t want her to jeopardize her position with Sadie in the process.”

“Chloe!” Quinn shouts. “Comeon!”

Blake sighs. “You better go before she comes and drags you back.”

“Where willyoube going?” I demand.

He holds a finger to his lips, then spins me around and gives me a little pat on the backside. “Go on now. Shoo.”

I glare at him over my shoulder, but I go as directed. Let him and the others keep their secrets. I’ll discover what they’re up to, eventually.

Later that day, I walk with Holden outside, Quinn running off energy with Sprinkles. I’m slowly getting more accustomed to the Newfoundland. It helps to see how gentle he is with the little girl, and how fearless she is around him.

“Are you sure it was okay to leave dinner on the stovetop?” I ask as we venture farther away from the Homestead. “What if something happens?”

“It will be fine.” Holden stops me from turning back. “The fire alarm in the kitchen will alert the others if it bubbles over.”

I recognize the diversion tactic to get us out of the house. It happens at least once a day, and Holden refuses to let us go back until he receives some kind of signal that it’s safe to return.

I’m beyond curious, but I’m stopping myself from being too nosy because I love surprises.

As we continue our exploration, admiring the flowers Quinn finds and chattering about fairy princesses, a prickle of unease skitters across my skin.

The sensation of being watched lifts the small hairs on the back of my neck and sends a shiver down my spine. I peer over my shoulder to scan the tree line but see nothing amiss.

“Chloe?” Quinn’s small hand tugs on mine. “Is something wrong?”

“No, princess.” I force away the unsettling feeling. “Everything’s fine. Just thought I heard something.”

Holden gives me a concerned look before his focus shifts to the trees surrounding us.

So far, no trace of an intruder has been found on the island, and I’m beginning to think I imagined the figure outside the French doors. I’d still been recovering from my time with Louie, and my mind was probably remembering how the guards at his place had me on constant surveillance.

Frowning, Holden checks his phone and looks down at Quinn. “How about we head back and do some drawing instead?”

“Yes, please!” She skips alongside us as we walk up the path toward the cabin, her flowery sundress fluttering in the breeze.

Once inside, Holden gathers paper and crayons and settles us at the kitchen island.

Quinn climbs onto the stool beside me, reaching for a bright blue crayon. “Can we draw a fairy garden? With sparkly flowers and tiny houses?”

“Of course, princess. We can create anything you want.” I pick a soft gray crayon and begin sketching the outline of a winding path, much like the one we walked down. “How about we start with a trail leading to a magical pond?”

“Oh!” Quinn bounces in her seat. “We can draw little fairy friends having a tea party!”

As we work side by side, Quinn’s tongue pokes out in concentration, and I marvel at her imagination. Her small hand moves across the paper, bringing the idea to life. I add a unicorn to the party, complete with a magnifying glass for a horn.

“That’s Detective Stardust!” Quinn slaps her hands onto the table on either side of the drawing to lean closer and admire it. “You’re so good at drawing, Chloe.”

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