“Reacquaint herself with him,” Mother said. “I daresay, he has all sorts of fascinating stories he has yet to tell. He’s lived quite an adventurous life, you know.”

“No doubt,” Beryl said in a dry tone.

“Delilah,” Camille began slowly. If she truly meant to make things right with her younger sister, there was no time like the present to begin. “I fear I owe you an apology.” She shot a pointed look at Beryl. “We both do, don’t we?”

“Yes, yes.” Beryl sighed in surrender. “We’ve been dreadful.”

“What are you talking about?” Delilah’s eyes narrowed. “What have you done?”

“Nothing, really,” Camille said quickly. “And therein lay the problem.”

Delilah’s suspicious gaze shifted from Camille to Beryl and back. “What problem?”

“Perhaps it’s simply that it is Christmas,” Camille began. “Or the fact that I have invented a family or that my own family is now here, or—”

“Grayson,” Beryl muttered.

“Beryl,” Camille said sharply. “What on earth is the matter with you today? You are even more ill-tempered than usual.”

“Well, perhaps it’s to be expected,” Beryl snapped. “Given that—”

“Beryl,” Mother warned.

“Given that nothing is quite going as planned.” Beryl huffed. “Although I suppose I can try to be more pleasant.”

“That would be most appreciated.” Camille studied her twin curiously. Beryl did have a tendency to be overly sharp, but this wasn’t at all like her. Still, she was right. Nothing was going precisely as intended, and it did make one tend to be a bit snippy. Camille turned her attention back to her younger sister. “As I was saying, Beryl and I have come to the realization that we haven’t been the sisters we should have been and we have resolved to change that.”

“Have you?” Suspicion sounded in Delilah’s voice. “Why?”

“Because one never knows how much time one has.” An adamant note sounded in Beryl’s voice. “Because one minute there is someone you have paid no attention to whatsoever, because they have always simply been there, and you always expected they would, and the next minute they’re gone. And there is nothing you can do about it, because it’s entirely too late.”

Camille stared. Beryl was certainly taking this reconciliation with Delilah far more seriously than Camille had expected. Their younger sister stared as well. Mother reached out and patted Beryl’s hand. “Well said, dear.”

“What if it is too late?” Delilah said slowly. “What if what is done cannot be undone?”

“Death is the only thing that cannot be undone,” Mother said firmly.

“One would think,” Beryl said under her breath; then her eyes widened as if she were surprised by her own words. “Just a thought, nothing of significance.”