PREVIEW

... mother and Lucy burst through the front door of the Simpson mansion. Their faces were flushed, their gestures animated as they exchanged heated whispers. I knew instantly that the afternoon tea at Harper Watson’s hadn’t gone well.

Mother spotted me and made a beeline in my direction, her eyes flashing with indignation. "Can you believe the nerve of that woman?"

I didn’t need to ask which woman she meant. There was only one who could ruffle my mother’s feathers to this degree.

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