Jason and I look at each other, and his eyes are wide as he mouths “Eggshell” at me. I try not to laugh as I hold my finger to my lips and wink. It’ll be our secret.

“Um, yeah . . . we wanted it to have some texture. Right, Amelia?” Jackson says, casually putting down his own half-eaten cake and pushing it away. Jason and I do the same.

“That’s absolutely what we were going for,” I reply confidently, ignoring Aiden silently laughing beside me.

As the rest of the conversation carries on, I turn to Aiden. I don’t want to ruin his day, but he hasn’t said anything else about Andrew since we ate our pancakes together on Monday, and I keep itching to ask. They couldn’t possibly have just moved on and decided to leave us alone. We’re not that lucky. So when is the other shoe going to drop?

“Hey, have you heard anything else about Andrew or seen Harvey? Do you think they kind of forgot about us? Is that just wishful thinking?”

His facial expression turns grim, as if just the opposite is true.

“What, Aiden? What’s wrong?”

His face is blank. “Nothing, Amelia.”

I’ve gotten so used to Aiden not hiding his emotions from me that at this point, a blank face is his biggest tell that something’s wrong.

Placing my hand on his strong jaw, I force him to look at me. “Aiden?”

He studies me intensely, a debate happening behind his gray eyes. I can tell when he’s made his decision because he runs his hand through his hair and curses under his breath.

He stands up and pulls me with him, grabbing my arm and practically dragging me out of the room.

“I know where they’re going! Rhymes with shmirthday smex!!” Noah calls out after us with a laugh, immediately followed by a thud and an “Oomf!”

Someone, I’m guessing Annalisa or Charlotte, must’ve thrown a pillow at him. I follow Aiden up the stairs.

The last thing I hear is one of the twins expressing their disgust since they “Know what rhymes with ‘shmirthday smex,’” before Aiden closes the door to what looks like his office. It’s a small room, with a desk with a laptop sitting on it, as well as a big leather chair with wheels on the bottom.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Aiden starts, opening a drawer to his desk and digging around. “You’ve been through so much and already have one madman to worry about, I didn’t want to stress you out.”

He pulls out an envelope and closes the drawer, turning to face me with clouded eyes. “But I’m not going to make that mistake, where I keep you in the dark to protect you.”

Hesitantly, I take the envelope from his outstretched hand. Is this the shoe that’s dropping? My throat tightens as I open the envelope and pull out . . . a birthday card?

This doesn’t make sense, and it certainly doesn’t warrant Aiden’s warnings, but his expression gives nothing away.