COINCIDENCE WORKED IN mysterious ways. Where would Hadley have been a month ago, if his friends hadn't decided to stop at some fifties imitation diner? Where would he have been, if he never left that diner in the first place? What would have happened if he showed up back at home half an hour too late, completely missing David? Would he have suffered less under the curse, or more? Would he have died earlier or would it not have made any difference?
He sticks his fork into the pancake on his plate, contemplating the possibilities. There are no nightmares, at least. David is doing something—it's just hard to tell what.
"You don't like your breakfast?" Marzia asks, appearing out of nowhere. She puts a hand on Hadley's back.
"No, I love my breakfast," Hadley says, and cuts up a piece of pancake and puts it into his mouth. "Shee? I luf it."
"Don't talk with your mouth full," says Marzia. "You are spilling food all over the table."
He swallows. "Sorry."
"Look who joined us for breakfast," says his sister, as she walks into the kitchen and seats herself opposite him. Hadley looks at her—there's no wave of nausea, no sickness rising up in his stomach. He's grateful for that.
"What, like you come down every morning for eggs and bacon?" he says, tearing off another piece of pancake.
"I do, in fact. Every morning. Do you think Marzia just stands around in the kitchen making food for people that don't even come down to eat?" She yawns, and rubs at her eyes. It's only then he notices the dark circles under her eyes, and the red rimming the whites of her eyes.
"You look like shit," Hadley says.
"You're no prize either, asshole."
"Please," Marzia calls, from where she stands at the stove. "Don't fight."
Philippa and Hadley exchange a look.
"By the way, James," Philippa says, low enough that Marzia can't hear her, "are you going to invite your guest down to eat dinner with us anytime?"
Hadley sets down his fork.
"Well?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Hadley says, looking her straight in the eye.
Philippa lets out a disdainful scoff. "What's the point of lying if you're so bad at it?"
Marzia sets a plate laden with bacon and hash brown in front of Philippa, who makes a pleased exclamation and heartily digs in with obvious relish.
Hadley watches her for a moment, before asking, "How did you know?"
She looks up, mid-bite. She tears off the rest of the bacon with her teeth and chews on it, thoughtfully. "Marzia makes an extra serving every meal. And you're not exactly slick about carrying it up to your room."
Hadley sighs. "That makes sense."
"We're not all as stupid as you. Bring him down for dinner. I wouldn't mind making his acquaintance."
"You think I've forgotten what you did to Gregory?"
For three weeks after the incident, Gregory had refused to set foot in Hadley's house. The whole business was very funny, actually, if Hadley pushed his sister out of the equation. A lot of things that happened with Philippa were funny, if Hadley didn't think about Philippa's involvement in them. Which was sort of hard, because Philippa's presence took up a lot of space. Where Hadley had a startling lack of personality, Philippa was rife with character, like she had to make up for her twin's blandness, his innate emptiness.
