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“I love it.” Maggie beams. “It’s giving old money chic meets mad scientist’s lair vibes.”
My sister grins, clearly pleased with Maggie’s approval. “Life’s too short for beige, darlings.”
As we move farther into the apartment, I spot her dining table completely covered in paper maps, graphs, a laptop, and some of the gifts Dad had sent to her.
I move over there, eyeing the chaotic spread of papers, maps, and trinkets strewn across its surface. It looks like a conspiracy theorist’s fever dream threw up all over Siobhan’s antique mahogany.
“Jeez, Sis. Did you rob a Staples or what?” I pick up a ceramic leprechaun figurine, turning it over to examine the bottom.
Siobhan flies to me. “That's a clue!” She snatches the leprechaun from me. “Everything here is a clue.”
I back up with my hands up. “Okay, okay! Sorry, Sherlock.”
“I think I’m close to cracking Dad’s code,” she says, gingerly placing the figurine in its place. “But there are still some holes in my theories.”
“What kind of code are we talking about here?” Maggie asks. “Like, ‘drink your Ovaltine’?”
Siobhan laughs. “I wish it were that simple. No, I think the clues hidden in these…gifts…They’re not pointing to just one message—it’s multiple, completely unrelated ones. That’s why I couldn’t figure it out before.”
I pick up a small wooden box with intricate carvings. Siobhan gives me the death glare, so I put it down quickly.
Maggie leans in, intrigued. “So, it’s like a puzzle within a puzzle?”
“Exactly!” Siobhan beams. “I just need to figure out where all the pieces go.”
“But instead of pieces, you have…random junk,” I say.
“Your dad sent all this stuff?” Maggie asks. “Prison arts and crafts are next level from license plates these days.”
Siobhan smiles warmly. “I mean, he didn’t actually send them himself. He had help on the outside, of course. And before you ask, Sawyer, Uncle Whitey had nothing to do with it. Otherwise, I could just ask him.”
Maggie is genuinely intrigued. “So, how can we help you solve it?”
Siobhan sighs dramatically. “If you can help me, Maggie, I’ll give you a gold star. These codes are tougher to crack than Sawyer’s…”
“Aaaanyway,” I say, not loving where this conversation is headed. “I’m going to see Dad in the morning. Hopefully, I can get some straight answers out of him for once.”
Siobhan snorts. “Good luck with that. Prison walls have ears. Dad won’t risk it.”
“Maybe you need a fresh perspective,” Maggie suggests to Siobhan. I can practically see the gears turning in her head.
Siobhan sighs, rubbing her temples. “I suppose you’re right. I’m starting to get cross-eyed.”
“That’s how I feel when I’m in drafting mode.” Maggie nods sympathetically. “Sometimes you need another set of eyes to catch your typos.”
“Okay, Maggie,” Siobhan says, warming up to the idea. “Actually, I really appreciate that.”
Maggie grins. “Three heads are better than one.”
Siobhan jerks her chin in my direction. “Well, two and a half heads.”
I feign offense. “Are you girls going to make fun of me the whole time, because I’ll just go watch ESPN.”
“I don’t have a TV, bro,” Siobhan retorts.
I hold up my phone triumphantly. “There’s an app for that.”
Maggie and Siobhan both cross their arms like they choreographed it when I wasn’t looking. It’s cute seeing them teaming up against me—like watching two kittens plotting world domination.
