FORTY-SIX
The warm aroma of buttered baguettes, fresh berries, and steaming cocoa drifted through the dining room. A plate of honey-drizzled crepes rested in the middle of the table, untouched.
Meredith spread jam across her bread, while Erica stirred her cocoa without drinking it.
But something was missing.
Mr. Leclair glanced up. “Where’s Annalise?”
Mrs. Leclair blinked. “She’s not here yet?”
Erica shook her head. “She didn’t come out of her room this morning.”
“Did she say anything to either of you?” her mother asked.
“No,” Erica admitted. “But… she’s been off lately.”
Mr. Leclair’s fork paused midair. His soft spot was, and always had been, Annalise. “Maybe you should check on her, darling.”
Mrs. Leclair rose, smoothed her napkin, and made her way to Annalise’s room. She knoc
