The thought renewed the sense of unease that had briefly faded while she thought of Morgan. That was the reason, wasn’t it? Moving into her father’s room wasn’t an emotionally viable option, even though the queen-sized bed was far more suitable. She couldn’t bring Morgan into that room. That was all. It had nothing to do with the fact that having Morgan here, in this house, would bridge her two worlds too completely—and there was a guest room with a queen mattress that was perfectly serviceable, even if it squeaked.

These thoughts were still on her mind when the real estate agent knocked. She’d had the foresight to check the woman’s name beforehand and was prepared to greet Katherine Kovaleski with a firm handshake and a smile.

The smile, however, froze on her face as the door swung open. It occurred to her, belatedly, that she should have checked the woman’s photo for safety reasons if nothing else. If she had, it might also have occurred to her that Kate was short for Katherine.

Morgan’s ex-fiancé greeted her with a polite smile.

“Katherine,” she said as she offered her hand. Emilia shook it because she didn’t see an alternative.

Smile, she told herself. Act like an adult.

“So nice to meet you. Please come in.” Her voice sounded falsely chipper to her own ears, but maybe Kate—Katherine—wouldn’t notice. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fucking fuck. This could not be happening.

“And who’s this?”

“Oh my God, I’m sorry. This is Nell. I meant to put her away. I can—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a dog person.”

She’d have to be to have been with Morgan, Emilia reflected as Katherine greeted Nell. The pause gave her a chance to scrutinize the other woman.

Morgan clearly had a type. Katherine stood as tall as Emilia, and while her dark brown hair was currently pinned up in the sort of sophisticated twist Emilia had never been able to manage, she could tell that she had the same thick waves as she did. Sure, Katherine’s skin tone was lighter, and her eyes were more hazel than brown, but “leggy brunette” might as well have been stamped on their passports. Katherine wore a smart pair of black slacks and casually elegant pumps, giving her a slight height advantage, and her sleeveless blouse accentuated her curves. She was even prettier in person than in her photograph. Emilia felt an immediate need to hate this woman, which she stifled. She could get through this. Then she’d just tell Katherine she had decided to go with another agent. Nothing personal.

Katherine finished petting Nell and looked around appraisingly.

“You mentioned this house belonged to your father?”

“Yes.” Grief, at least, cleared her mind of other thoughts.