Summer furrowed her brow, unsure if her little brother had overheard her phone conversation. But it didn’t really matter if he did catch any of it. She doubted he understood a thing,


    Shaking off the distraction, she strode toward Aiden and casually asked, “What are you doing standing around here?”


    “Who were you just on the phone with?” Aiden asked, his eyebrows knitted together as he looked at Summer. He had caught snippets of her conversation–something about not having evidence and nothing going wrong. It didn’t sound like anything good.


    Summer nced at him dismissively. “Mind your own beeswax, will you?” Thest thing she needed was for this blockhead to make her the talk of the town again.


    “Are <i>you </i>cooking up some nasty scheme?” Aiden cut to the chase.


    Hearing this, Summer’s face darkened. “Aiden, I’m your sister. Do you really think so low of your own flesh and blood?”


    She couldn’t fathom it. In their past lives, they weren’t exactly close, but they had never been at each other’s throats like this.


    “I don’t have a sister with such a cunning mind,” Aiden scoffed and walked away, leaving Summer with a sour taste in her mouth.


    Meanwhile, Leo left Jay’s ce and sank into his car seat, his mood visibly deted.


    Mirabe, one earbud in, was half listening to the recorded conversation and half watching him. “Leo, did you manage to get anything out of him?”


    Leo let out a hefty sigh and a wry smile, “He didn’t budge an inch. He insists he wrote the song himself. I shouldn’t have even bothered.”


    But Mirabe, eyebrow cocked, disagreed, “I wouldn’t say that.” If Leo hadn’t shown up at Jay’s doorstep, she wouldn’t have captured such an intriguing conversation.


    Still wrapped up in his thoughts, Leo barely registered Mirabe’sment,menting, “I never would’ve guessed Jay could change so much. We used to be such good friends, open and honest with each other.”


    Mirabe removed her earbud, patted Leo on the shoulder, and said nonchntly, “People change, and sometimes, being too kind isn’t doing you any favors.”


    Leo’s mouth twitched at the edges. Was that supposed to beforting? It sounded more like a backhandedpliment.


    Mirabe leaned back, rxed, and generously offered, “Come on, Leo. Let’s grab a bite. I’ll


    treat <b>you </b><b>to </b>a feast and perk you up a bit. Get a good night’s sleep, and who knows? Tomorrow


    might bring a pleasant surprise.”


    Leo stole a nce at his sister, once again feeling their roles were reversed. Who was the sibling in charge here, anyway? But he had to admit, his spirits lifted a bit.


    Starting the car, Leo pulled out of the neighborhood. Mirabe mulled over for a moment before giving him an address. It was the location of Knox’s food therapy joint.


    Remembering James mentioning that the bistro was by invitation only and often required reservations, Mirabe had sent Knox a message en route.


    Knox was thrilled at the prospect of Mirabe visiting the bistro, offering to personally whip up a couple of specialties for her, which she promptly and firmly declined.


    She’d had her fill of these eager old grandpas, each one either wanting <i>to </i>mentor her or be her protégé. It was all a bit too much.


    Twenty minutester, they pulled up outside Knox’s food therapy joint.