“I was thinking it would be best to do it in your sleep,” Terracotta replied without batting an eye. “Then you wouldn’t even notice. I’m competent, but I’m not cruel.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” Mika remarked, wondering if the rest of the household knew that there was a tiny psychopath in their midst.

Before the conversation could go any further, the sandpapery voice of Jamie, the librarian, interrupted them. “Cool outfit,” he said, sounding amused. He tugged on the end of Terracotta’s ponytail and Mika watched in fascination as the unnervingly intense expression on the child’s face transformed instantly into a childish scowl.

“Jamie!” she complained, tilting her head back to glower up at him. “You’re ruining it!”

“Ruining what? Your diabolical plot to scare the new tutor away, thereby saving you the trouble of having to murder her?”

Terracotta shot Jamie a betrayed, outraged look. “I told you,” she hissed, making no effort to keep her voice down, “I don’t want her here!”

Jamie’s face, which had been fixed in a permanent scowl the last time Mika had seen him, was remarkably patient and unscowly as he looked down at Terracotta, but Mika could tell from the way his jaw tightened that he had no intention of letting her get away with such a poor display of manners.

Mika surprised everyone, including herself, by cutting in with: “Suck it up, buttercup.”

“What did you say?” Terracotta demanded incredulously.

“Suck it up, buttercup,” Mika repeated, perfectly cheerfully. “It’s okay that you don’t want me here, but I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it because I signed a contract. I’m staying put. And I wouldn’t recommend sneaking up on me when I’m asleep, either,” she added, giving the matter a moment’s serious consideration. “I have a very protective dog, you see.”

Terracotta crossed her arms over her chest and transferred her scowl to Mika, but didn’t seem to have anything more to say.

“Oh, she absolutely got that scowl from you,” Mika said to Jamie, marvelling at the resemblance. “It’s uncanny.”

Now they were both scowling at her. She smiled back.

Then Lucie bustled over, closely followed by the others, so there was no more time to discuss Mika’s hypothetical demise.

Lunch came in the form of a large jug of iced tea, bowls of creamy mushroom soup, and buttered hunks of warm, crusty homemade bread. Mika, who’d been too nervous to eat any breakfast before leaving Brighton, discovered she was absolutely starving and was content to eat in happy silence while the others kept up an easy, steady stream of chatter.

Eventually, the conversation turned to the girls’ tutoring. “While you’re here,” Lucie said to Mika, “we decided we’d cut back on the girls’ usual lessons so that they’ll have the mornings free to work with you. As long as that suits you.”