“Stunning.” Christy glanced around her, buying time. The trees stretched upward, their branches lumpy with snow, the surface glowing silver in the dim light. Soon the light would be gone, but that meant stars and, if they were lucky, the soft shimmer of the northern lights. Robyn and Erik had promised to take them on a special trip to see them, and she was looking forward to it. But first she had something more difficult to deal with.

Alix nudged her. “So how was your heart-to-heart with Aunt Robyn? Did all the skeletons come tumbling out of the cupboard? Did you swear to love each other forever?”

They’d always been so comfortable with each other, and now they weren’t comfortable. There was a snap of tension in the air, and Christy knew she was about to make that worse. Robyn was a subject they’d speculated on frequently growing up, and now, finally, she knew the truth. But was it right to share it with Alix? Would Robyn want her to share something so personal?

But she knew Alix was going to want to know everything, and she could already see that her friend was in a prickly mood. She’d known her long enough to be able to tell at a glance. It was there in the way she walked. In the angle of her jaw and the glint in those green eyes.

Christy’s insides flipped with nerves. She didn’t have Alix’s quick verbal responses. She usually thought of the right thing to say a month after the opportunity to say it had passed. When it came to doing something she found difficult, she’d win a gold medal in procrastination.

“Robyn and I had a good chat.”

“A good chat? After all these years of guessing and wondering, all you’re going to tell me is that you had a good chat?”

Maybe she should have made an excuse and postponed this activity. She hadn’t managed to get her own thoughts straight. She wasn’t quite ready to add Alix into that mix. There were other, more important conversations to be had.

“It was...a lot.”

“I’m sure. We’ve been talking about it for almost three decades. I always went with murder, although having met her, I’m doubting that now. She doesn’t seem the type.”

“You’ve met a lot of murderers?” She was stalling, nervous, and Alix’s smile flashed.

“Blame the time I’ve spent watching TV in hotel rooms. Are you okay with this spa plan? You’ve got those little frown lines on your face that you only get when you’re anxious about something.” She waved an arm toward the spa. “If you don’t feel like peeling your clothes off and being pummeled or talking in front of an audience, we could go back to the cabin and open a bottle of wine. Zac is doing something daring and outdoorsy, so the place is empty. We can have a proper catch-up in private. You can tell me everything. No witnesses. We could even change into our pajamas. I’ll hit you with a pillow, if you like. It would be like old times.”