𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐒𝐎 | ᴍɪʟʟᴀʀᴅ ɴᴜʟʟɪɴɢꜱ

𝟐𝟗] 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MILLARD AND HIS SENSITIVITY

HOPING TO DUCK ANOTHER LECTURE, I got up early and set out before Dad was awake. I slipped a note under his door and went to grab my signature necklace, but it wasn't on my nightstand where I'd left it. A thorough search of the floor uncovered a lot of dust bunnies and one leathery thing the size of a golf ball.

Puzzled, I shrugged it off and went out. It was pissing rain but Jacob and I soon left gray skies behind for the reliable sun of the loop. This time, however, there were no smart invisible boys waiting for us on the other side of the cairn—or anyone, for that matter. I tried not to be too disappointed, but I was, a little.

As soon as I got to the house I started looking for Hugh, but Emma intercepted me before I had even made it past the front hall.

"A word, Calypso," she said, and led me into the door of the library, still fragrant from the rich flowers Fiona had created.

Emma propped herself against the giant bookshelf. "Are you enjoying your time with us?" she said.

I told her I was, very much.

"That's good," she replied, and then her smile vanished. "I understand you had a pleasant day with us yesterday. Anything you'd like to tell us?"

     "The beach was great. You're all really nice." I was trying to keep things light, but I could tell she was winding me up for something.

     "I understand you've become close with many of us," she said, "to whom have you been closest?"

     I tried to be as nice as possible. "I don't know... I talk about a lot of things with a lot of people. I mean with Millard, I talk—"

     "Millard."

     "Right."

     "And do you think it's right to pressure people on the whereaboutsof their deceased friend?"

     "Friends? Is that really how you think of them?" I regretted saying this even as the words were passing my lips.

     "It is how they regard themselves as well," she said testily. "What would you call them?"

     Given her mood, it wasn't a subtlety I was prepared to argue. "Friends, I guess."

     "Indeed. Now, as I was saying," she said, emphasizing her words with little cleaver-chops of her hand on the range, "do you think it's wise to discuss Eloise with Millard?"

     I decided to go out on a limb. "No?"

     "Ah, but apparently you do! I know this because this morning at breakfast we were treated by Millard to a fascinating disquisition on how you were learning more about the houses past! About Eloise! " Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

     "I don't understand," I said. "Is that a problem?"

     She unleaned herself from the bookshelf and took a step towards me. Even though she was a  few inches shorter than me, she still managed to be intimidating.