Frederick returned from his brief meeting still carrying the scent of rain and office air, but the moment he stepped inside, he sensed Sienna's unease.
She hovered near the edge of the couch, her fingers knotted together, her voice soft but tight.
"Fred… I'm afraid that if Rose keeps refusing food, she might become malnourished."
Her worry settled in the room like a thin fog. Frederick crossed to her, gentling his movements as he sat and drew her onto his lap. The tension in her shoulders softened only slightly.
"Hey," he murmured, brushing a thumb across her arm. "Don't worry about Rose. She's always been a picky eater. I'll get a professional to help with her meals."
But Sienna's mind was somewhere else—calculating, juggling possibilities.
A mischievous smile ghosted
