The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. Both Conrad and Clara turned toward the door, where Celeste stood like a statue of marble and ice. Her eyes, usually a calm, deep sea of professional calculation, were now flashing with a cold, rhythmic fury.
Clara’s bravado vanished instantly. She lowered her head, looking less like a warning messenger and more like a schoolgirl caught breaking curfew. "Sis... you’re back. And look at you, Kylie! Come here, you little angel!"
Clara scrambled toward the child, using the girl’s innocence as a shield to deflect her sister’s gaze. She knelt on the hardwood floor, pinching Kylie’s soft cheeks with forced enthusiasm. "I missed you so much! Do you remember your Auntie Clara?"
"I do..." Kylie squeaked, her face being squished into various a
