After I’d told Finn to track down the college girl using her credit card receipt, he’d gone to his office to get his laptop and some other supplies and tell the money men he was taking the rest of the day off. While he’d done that, I’d scheduled an appointment for a glazier to come fix the storefront windows in the morning. Then I’d sent Sophia home, closed down the restaurant, and driven to Fletcher’s house. That had taken an hour.

Finn had shown up thirty minutes ago. Now he relaxed on the faded plaid sofa in the den, while I puttered around in the kitchen. Given all the excitement, I hadn’t had a chance to eat lunch at the restaurant, and I had a feeling it was going to be a long night. That’s why I’d made chicken salad sandwiches on thick, honey-wheat bread, along with a fresh fruit salad.

I put the food on a tray, along with plates, silverware, napkins, and a pitcher of raspberry lemonade. Then I reached for my Ice magic. The cold, silver light flickered on my palm, centered over the spider rune scar, and I dropped several Ice cubes into the two glasses on the tray.

I took the whole thing into the den and set it on the coffee table.

I sat cross-legged in one of the recliners and munched on a sandwich. Celery, apples, golden raisins, lemon zest, and a sour cream–mayo dressing flavored the chicken salad, while the crusty bread provided crunch and contrast.

I alternated with bites of my strawberry-and-kiwi fruit salad, tossed with lime juice, vanilla, and just a hint of honey.

Finn also helped himself to a sandwich and some fruit, and we ate in silence. Finn’s laptop whirred softly as it sorted through billions of bytes of data, looking for info on one Violet Fox.

After he’d wolfed down his first sandwich, Finn reached for another. He jerked his head at the far side of the coffee table, where he’d slid the folder Fletcher Lane had left me—the one that contained the information on my murdered family and Bria, my baby sister, who was still alive. Finn had moved the folder out of the way so he could set his laptop on the ancient table.

“Any luck with that?” Finn asked.

“No.”

Shortly after Fletcher’s funeral, I’d told Finn about the file and the secrets it held, including my real name—

Genevieve Snow. I’d let him sort through the information and draw his own conclusions about everything else. Including what had happened the night my mother, Eira, and older sister, Annabella, had been murdered by a Fire elemental. For a moment, orange flames filled my vision.

The image of two burned husks of bodies flashed before my eyes, and the air smelled of charred flesh. I willed the memory away.