And that was why we were standing there with two different totals and no explanation for the money between them.
Before Harper answered his question, an email arrived on my phone.
It was from the rental company.
After processing my cancellation, they had discovered another Christmas reservation connected to Harper’s email.
A smaller house.
A private guest list.
I read it again, keeping my thumb still against the screen.
There was a name attached to it that neither Alex nor I recognized.
Nathan Cole.
Alex looked at Harper.
“Who is Nathan?”
Then another detail appeared—one that made the entire room go silent.
What else had been arranged while I was still paying for a Christmas I wasn’t allowed to attend?
Harper reached for my phone.
I stepped back. Her fingers closed on empty air, and Alex moved between us without touching her.
Beneath Nathan Cole’s name was an attachment labeled as the revised booking summary. The rental company wanted to know whether this smaller reservation was also supposed to be canceled.
Harper had used the contact record from my original booking when arranging it.
That was why the question had reached me.
“Open it,” Alex said.
The smaller house was booked for the same Christmas dates. Six guests: Harper, Alex, Sophie, Ben, and Harper’s parents.
Under special instructions, one sentence sat by itself.
“Please do not discuss the alternate reservation with Alex before arrival.”
Alex read it twice. Then he lowered my phone onto the console with both hands.
“Before arrival,” he repeated.
Harper loosened her scarf.
“It was a backup.”
“For what?”
“For when this happened.”
She gestured toward the canceled receipts as though they proved something about me.
“You know how she gets about money.”
Alex looked at the dates on the attachment.
The smaller reservation had been made two days before Harper called to tell me I wasn’t welcome.
“No,” he said. “You arranged this first.”
The refrigerator hummed in the kitchen. Somewhere upstairs, a heating pipe clicked. I could hear these little household sounds because none of us spoke.
Then I asked again.
“Who is Nathan Cole?”
Harper stared at the floor.
“The booking manager.”
Alex picked up his own phone and searched the name on the rental company’s website. He turned the screen toward me.
Nathan Cole. Guest Reservations.
