“It’s obvious now. They were all acting so weird—” I grit my teeth, stung anew at the Twins’ involvement, and grip the bag on my lap a little more tightly.

Something inside crinkles, so I relax my hold. When Jane spilled through the yellow revolving door and into the lobby, he was carrying two bags. One held a few days of work clothing for me, as he’d rightly anticipated I planned to extend my sleepover with Darcy. The green messenger bag currently in my lap came at the advisement of Charles’s lawyer, who suggested we go through my work for evidence of earlier stages of the design Wickham stole. I’ve been clinging to it since Jane explained what was inside, but I haven’t brought myself to look in.

“I’m sorry if anything got wrinkled,” Jane says, indicating the bag. “I was a little flustered and swept everything off the top of your desk into the thing. I think your pen cup ended up in it.”

I laugh. It feels good. “Thank you, boo.”

“You okay? I mean, all things considered.”

“It will be good to get everyone here, I think. Have us all on the same page. Charles,” I say, and sit up as he joins the table, scooting into the booth to sit on Jane’s other side. “I’m so sorry about your deal.”

“It’s pretty awful.” He sighs, shoulders falling, looking for all the world like a reprimanded golden retriever. One glance at Jane has him perking up some. “But I’ve already gotten more than I could have dreamed from the arrangement.”

Jane purses his lips against his smile, but his eyes go bright. “You.”

Darcy makes his way toward us, sliding his phone into his back pocket as he walks. I stand and join him at the end of the room’s long dining table.

“Fitz isn’t the strongest on intellectual property,” he says, “but he’s gotten hold of the partner who is. She agrees with Charles’s lawyer about going over your work.”

I grip the strap of the bag, my nails digging into the cotton weave.

Darcy’s eyes go soft. “It’s your call, Bennet. I don’t want to stress you any further, but they want us to act quickly. I’m happy to go, so you can stay with everyone here. If you’d rather send copies, we can do that. Or you and I can take them up there together.”

“No. You can take them,” I say, though I still don’t let go of the bag. “But I can’t. I can’t look at them right now. It’s raw, is all.”

Darcy reaches out, but instead of taking the bag, he rests his hands on my upper arms, gently guiding me closer. “It’s up to you.”