Sherry had thought Madison’s bearing to be arrogant, but hers was nothing compared to her grandmother, who behaved like a queen.

“She’ll offer us scotch in a moment,” Madison whispered into her ear, causing a tickling there. “Accept. She hates people who don’t drink with her.”

“But I don’t drink alcohol,” Sherry whispered back.

Madison’s eyes widened.

Mrs. Fielding stopped in front of three couches in a half-circle facing a chimney. She sat down on one couch beside the chimney and pointed to the opposite one. “Sit. Would you like to join me for a scotch?”

Mrs. Fielding hadn’t addressed Sherry even once, but that didn’t bother Sherry as much as the thought that she was going to have to drink alcohol. Madison should have told her earlier. The smell of alcohol alone left her feeling nauseous. And for good reason.

“Yes, please.” Madison sat down on the appointed couch and pulled Sherry down with her.

Sherry lost her equilibrium. Flailing with both arms, she just managed to avoid landing in Madison’s lap. Instead, she landed awkwardly next to her.

Mrs. Fielding took her time to sip her scotch and fixed them both with a cool glance.

From somewhere behind them, the man who had greeted them outside appeared with a silver tray in his hands. Two glasses, both containing two fingers of scotch, were on it.

Madison took both glasses and handed one to Sherry.

Reluctantly, Sherry took it. The stinging smell pierced her nose. It took all her self-control to keep her face neutral.

“What was your name again?” Mrs. Fielding asked, addressing her for the first time. “Sheryl?”

“Sherry Miller, ma’am.”

Instead of standing up and coming closer to offer her hand, the elderly woman just tilted her head. “Eileen Fielding. But you know that already, of course.” She looked around as if searching for something.

Maybe her manners? This thought caused a smirk she couldn’t suppress.

“Dinner will be served soon, so I’ll make this quick,” Mrs. Fielding said.

Madison’s hold on hers tightened, but her passive expression hadn’t changed.

“Sheryl…”

“Sherry.”

“Whatever. I’m sorry to tell you this, but just a few days ago I found Madison after a rampant night of partying with a woman she had obviously spend the night wi—”

“That’s a lie!” Madison said forcefully.

“Is it? Do you honestly mean to tell me that you didn’t have sex with that young girl who I met in the entrance of your utterly trashed apartment?”

Madison gulped down half of her scotch.

This was going from bad to worse. “I know,” Sherry heard herself say.

Madison and Mrs. Fielding stared at her.

“Y-you know about it?”

“Yeah,” Sherry said. “Madison told me about it. But that was before we decided to settle down as a family.”