Jonathan drew out the final note, making the word “dove” soar like the bird itself. At the last moment, his voice shook, and he stopped at once. His eyes opened, and when he saw Madeleine and Hæra staring at him, he blushed.

This time, Madeleine’s applause was entirely sincere. “That was wonderful!”

Jonathan blushed more deeply. “Eh, you must not be used to much if that was ‘wonderful’ to you.”

“I’ve heard enough lousy singing to be a good judge,” Madeleine said dryly. “Back me up, Hæra.”

“It was good,” Hæra said. “I wish you had sung to me before.”

At the wistful note in her voice, Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, well. Now I have, haven’t I? Anyway, it’s gone past nine, and I’d best leave you. Maybe I’ll catch a bit of that football match after all. Hæra, you coming with?”

Hæra shot Madeleine a glance.

It had been a long, emotional day. Madeleine had much to think about, and that was best done alone. It would be best for Hæra to say goodnight. Madeleine should tell her so.

“You’re welcome to stay,” she said. “Unless you want to watch football.”

“Then I’ll stay,” Hæra replied at once. “Jonathan’s club hasn’t won in ages.”

“My club isn’t even…never mind.” Jonathan stomped toward the door. “Come home when you’re ready to appreciate sport.”

“Chance’d be a fine thing,” Hæra called after him, and he laughed as he shut the door.

That left Madeleine and Hæra facing each other: Hæra sprawled on the couch, and Madeleine’s heart went into overdrive again.

“Quite the day it was,” Hæra remarked.

Only yesterday, Madeleine would have broken eye contact and tried to collect herself. Now, that didn’t seem possible. Hæra’s eyes hooked her like a lure. “You can say that again,” she replied. Then she added, “Not literally.”

Hæra’s lips quirked. “Thanks for the clarification. I don’t always know.”

Madeleine laughed shakily. Were her palms sweating? How absurd. After the emotional roller coaster of the day, sitting in front of a fire couldn’t undo her.

Again, Hæra leaned forward, looking as intently at Madeleine as she’d looked at Jonathan while he sang. As if she was trying to figure something out: what to see, do, or say. “I don’t know a lot of things,” she said after a moment. “I’m not like you. Remember?”

How on earth could Madeleine forget? “It’s crossed my mind once or twice. Why do you ask?”