MEATY SCENTS CARRIED upward by the time I descended the stairs, as well as a voice I recognised but definitely didn't expect to hear.
I jogged down the last few steps, strode the length of the hallway to the open kitchen door, and stopped short at the weirdly domesticated scene I walked in on.
Over at the counter, Dad stood shoulder to shoulder with Aunt Maghon, of all people, dishing up a bunch of readymade breakfast baps that dripped grease everywhere.
He glanced over his shoulder at me. "Maghon stopped by with breakfast for everyone," he said.
"Danny-Boy," she said, twisting far enough to send me a smile.
"Can you call the others?" Dad asked.
Wondering when the hell their meetings had progressed to her stopping by for breakfast, I padded to the bottom of the stairs and yelled, "Br
