“Ryan helped her purchase a cabin in North Point, all cash, and I don’t think it’s under her name.”

I tap my chin again, irritated with this little bitch for not telling me this sooner. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I fucking love Taylor Swift, and you psychos are ruining everything for me.”

“You know what, Clover? I think I might just believe you. The downside of this means I’m going to need to talk to Ryan.”

“The sex really wasn’t worth all this,” she says.

“You’re definitely not wrong there,” I say before I turn around, silencing the music and leaving the basement.

When I return to the kitchen, Stevie has her hip pressed against the kitchen counter as she blows the steam from her tea to cool it down. Her hair looks like a rat’s nest, and she looks like she hasn’t gotten much sleep.

“You look like shit,” I say, pouring myself a cup from the kettle.

She ignores my comment but rolls her eyes and places her mug on the counter. “You turned off the music?” she asks as she puts two pieces of bread in the toaster.

“Seems little Clover has decided to actually be useful.”

‘Oh, yeah?”

“She said Ryan helped my mom buy a property in North Point.” Stevie arches a brow at me and pushes the mechanism to make the bread disappear.

“So you’re going to have to talk to Ryan?”

“Looks that way, but I had an idea first, maybe to get some insight into what happened last night.”

“Your dad?” she asks.

“I wish, but you know he just always shows up on my birthday. I was thinking Adelaide.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks as the toaster pops and she ignores it.

“Listen, I know how you feel about divination, but you can’t deny that she’s good at what she does. In a world full of things that don’t make sense, you really don’t think there’s any value in what she might know?”

“It’s not that I think divination is shit, it’s just Adelaide.” She turns so I can’t see her face. My cousin is easy to read, so her turning away tells me enough.

“You fucked her,” I say confidently, more like a statement, not a question.

She squeaks and turns around. “Maybe, a few times, and maybe I didn’t call her back.”

“Stevie, you little bitch.”

“Maybe she won’t be mad. Maybe she saw me ghosting her in the cards.” Stevie shrugs and tilts her head, like she’s trying to make herself believe her faulty logic.

I can’t help it when I bark out a laugh. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“I think we should stick together.”

“I think so too.”

“Any word from Dax?” she asks while she spreads jam on her toast.