The morning light is flooding the room, and the view beyond is perfect.
I lift my phone, snap a photo from right here at the counter, and send it to the group chat with Emmy and Madison.
Me:Current view. Not bad for a Tuesday morning.
Emmy:You’re still not home?
Madison:Are you being held hostage? Do you need us to call Liam Neeson?
Me:No hostage situation. Just temporarily relocated.
Madison:Zoom in. I want to see if there’s a reflection of Julian in those windows, preferably topless.
Me:No reflection. No Julian. He’s at the office.
Madison:So you’re just unsupervised in his house?
Emmy:God help him.
Me:I’m making coffee. Being normal.
Madison:Normal people don’t end up in billionaire beach houses with ocean views.
Emmy:She’s going to set the house on fire, isn’t she?
Me:I’m fine. The coffee machine just has forty-seven buttons.
Madison:Press them all. Live a little.
Emmy:You know what has to happen now.
Me:No.
Madison:Yes. Snooping.
Emmy:Thorough snooping.
Me:I am not snooping.
Madison:Do it.
Emmy:Start with the kitchen drawers. That’s where the secrets live.
Me:I will open one drawer.
Emmy:Make it the mystery drawer. Every kitchen has one.
Me:It’s cutlery.
Madison:Boring. Try another.
Me:No.
Emmy:What if there’s something scandalous? Like a passport under a fake name.
Me:Ems, you’ve got to stop watching those shows, honey.
Emmy:Just open something.