Tangled Ashes by Michèle Phoenix

this was the Jade the kids had mentioned earlier. Jade wiped some milk off the little girl’s chin with a napkin and smiled up at Becker from under thick, straight bangs. Her voice had the melodious lilt of the French language, but her English was nearly flawless. “I would have explained earlier,” she said quietly, still a little embarrassed, “but you seemed in a hurry to shut your door.”
    Becker dropped his chin and rolled his head back and forth. This day was starting off just swell. Not that the night had been anything to brag about. Its only saving grace had been the absence of dreams.
    “Tell Mr. Becker your names, children.”
    Becker looked up and met two pairs of curious eyes.
    “Philippe?” Fallon prodded.
    Philippe looked at Jade, who nodded. “My name is Philippe,” he said. Then he poked his sister with his elbow.
    “Ow,” she whined.
    “Can you tell Mr. Becker your name?” Jade coaxed.
    The pale, freckled redhead rubbed her arm where Philippe’s elbow had connected with it and looked cautiously at the stranger across the table. “Eva,” she said. Then, on a courageous streak, she added, “I’m six. Philippe too.”
    “So you’re twins?” Beck asked, trying to appear friendly.
    Eva looked up at Jade as if the question were too ridiculous for her to waste her time on. “Yes, they’re twins,” Jade said.
    “But you’d never know it to look at them, would you,” Fallon said. He was right, of course. Philippe’s light-brown hair and blue eyes were a stark contrast to his sister’s red hair and direct brown gaze. He was as stocky as she was delicate and, apparently, as little-boy as she was little-girl. Beck had the feeling that the average woman would have oohed and aahed all over herself at the sight of these two kids, but all they inspired in him was prudence. It wouldn’t be a good thing to antagonize the boss’s children.
    “Come on, you two,” Jade said, standing and motioning the children out of the kitchen. “Time to get some work done. We’ll clean up later.”
    They grabbed their large bowls with both hands and downed the last of the buttery hot chocolate. Eva reached for her napkin to dry off her chin, while Philippe opted for the elbow of his long-sleeve T-shirt instead.
    When they’d left, Fallon moved to the other side of the broad stainless-steel table and pushed a basket of bread toward Beck. “The children usually study at home in the mornings, then have the afternoon for other activities, but now that Sylvia is expecting our third, we’ve had to somewhat change the arrangement.”
    Beck felt surprise cross his face and quickly schooled it into something looking more like idle curiosity. “Your third, huh?”
    Fallon leaned in conspiratorially. “It was my wife’s idea at first, but I’m quite delighted about it now.”
    “Yeah? Congratulations.” Beck focused his attention on buttering his bread and not imagining a forty-year-old pregnant woman posing on his grand staircase on her birthday.
    “The timing is actually quite convenient,” Fallon continued. “Sylvia is getting more and more tired as time passes and would prefer some peace and quiet around home, so it seemed like a perfect solution to have Jade and the kids spend their days here. The grounds are safe and secluded, and the castle is every child’s dream playground.”
    Beck swallowed the chunk of buttered bread lodged in his throat. “They’re going to be here?”
    “Yes, of course. But they’ll be doing lessons with Jade during the morning—probably right here, as it’s out of the workmen’s way. And in the afternoon, they’ll play on the property.”
    “Every day?” Beck had never tried to complete a major renovation while a child-care facility operated on-site, and he wasn’t too enthused about this first experiment of the sort.
    “Most days. That won’t be a problem, will it, lad?”
    “I guess it’s fine.” His tone held little sincerity or confidence, despite his