“They kind of did,” Harper said. She leaned her elbows on the countertop, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee.

“I should’ve told them about the vision sooner,” Addison said.

“Probably,” Quinn said. “But it’s not your fault. The Haywoods don’t control the magic in the garden. You give it pain, it gives you fruit. It’s a symbiotic relationship. And this time that fruit had a bit of a different effect.”

“It wasn’t just a little bit different.”

If word got out about what had happened last night, Quinn would be the one fielding questions from their buyers. But she’d deal with that when the time came.

“What if it really is all my fault?”

“Addy…” Quinn warned.

“No, I mean it,” Addison said. “My broken magic means I can’t give the garden the sorrow it needs.”

“We don’t choose how the Haywood gift works,” Quinn said.

“So, what, the universe decided the garden is going to starve and there’s nothing we can do about it?” Addison asked. “Either way, the problem is the same. My magic.”

As much as Quinn loved Addison, this line of self-blame wasn’t going to get them anywhere. She stood from her barstool and pulled Addison up. Then she pushed her toward the bathroom. “You need to get cleaned up, and then you need to go into the tea shop and talk to your mother. You can’t solve this problem on your own.”

Addison dug her feet in. “Absolutely not.”

“Let’s say the garden is starving,” Quinn said. “You need to figure out how your magic plays into that. You need to figure out who you are. Not as Irene’s daughter. Not as Maura’s granddaughter. But as you. You’ll be the one who carries all this on when they’re done. And if it’s going to be different from here on out, then so be it. You have to embrace that. Now go.”

“Fine,” Addison said. Then she slipped off down the hallway.

Quinn turned back to find Harper smiling at her.

“Well done,” Harper said.

“I’m trying.” Quinn closed her eyes and sighed. “Sorry about her needing to crash here last night. Especially after the way you reacted to the rosemary…”

Harper hid her face behind her cup of coffee. “God, that was embarrassing, and I like PDA.”

“I mean, I do look excellent in a suit.”

“Hot, I think I said hot, but excellent works, too,” Harper laughed. “If only Addison could also figure out your nightmares along the way.”

“Sorry about last night.” Quinn cringed as she remembered how she’d bolted upright in bed muttering about blood, thrown the covers off both of them, and stood up on the mattress, ready to tackle whoever or whatever was haunting her dream in that moment, before Harper managed to shake her awake.

“Don’t be.” Harper wrapped her arms around Quinn.