Irene shook her head. “Maybe, if there was something here that pointed to the Bonners. But there isn’t. You need to make peace with Addison.”

Maura rolled her eyes.

“Whatever this”—Irene gestured to the teacups with the matching signs—“is, if we’re seeing it here, the wheels are already turning. We can’t stop it now. We can only hope to guide our response to whatever is to come.”

Tears pricked at Maura’s eyes. “You sound like me.”

Irene laughed softly. “I learned from you.”

Despite Maura’s worry, a honeybee found its way into the kitchen and landed on the table.

“Do you want to tell Addison?” Maura asked. Her granddaughter still hadn’t spoken to her since the funeral. Addison might live in the guesthouse near the shadow garden, but she’d managed to make herself scarce over the past two days.

Irene pressed her lips together. “Not particularly,” she said. “But…”

The leaves had given her and Irene the same message. They knew better than to ignore it.

“She doesn’t think we take her seriously,” Maura said.

“We did relegate her to the garden after what happened with River, and you laid it on pretty thick the other night,” Irene said.

“I apologized,” Maura said.

“You agreed to go to the dinner, and you did it through me,” Irene said. “That’s not exactly an apology.”

Maura crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

With a sigh, Irene said, “If we keep this from her, it will only make things worse.”

Maura knew her daughter was right, but she hated admitting it. She considered brushing it off, but as soon as she had the thought, the back door opened and Addison stepped into the kitchen, mug in hand.

She looked from Irene to Maura.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Maura said.

“Good morning to you, too,” Addison said with a yawn. To Irene she said, “Do you both want to go to the festival with me? Sylvia says she has seats for all of us in the VIP tent—even if some of us aren’t going to stay.”

“I’m going to dinner,” Maura said. “What more do you want from me?”

Irene elbowed her gently.

Maura closed her eyes, pressed her fingertips to her temples, and tilted her head back. “I’m sorry I blamed what happened at the funeral on you,” Maura said. “Even if your interpretation of the tea leaves was what led us there in the first place.”

“That’s half an apology at best,” Addison said.

“The other half will be my presence at dinner tonight,” Maura said. “Speaking of which, I want you to be careful tonight, and in any situation that involves a single Bonner.”

“Even Kaden?” Addison asked, and glanced at her mom.

“I’m still undecided about him,” Maura said as she gently grabbed Addison’s elbow and led her to the table where the teacups sat side by side.