Page 12 of The Dragon’s Accidental Manny

“But the smaller male is wrong.”

I shoved a hand over my mouth so I didn’t giggle. It was adorable, and Jack was oblivious.

“Little brother, our sister is talking about you,” Isla announced.

Jack fumbled the cookies, and I stood in front of him with my hand out. I didn’t speak, and he gave them to me before racing into the playroom and howling. I pitied whatever he was kicking. The girls and I ignored him and he eventually returned and ate his breakfast.

We moved into the playroom where Isla and Jack played a game that Jack invented and whose rules favored whatever he did, while Bea practiced the violin. There was a chart on the wall in her own handwriting that she had to do an hour of practice every day. But my dear Bea should have stuck to the recorder unless she was terrible at that too.

She tried so hard and never gave up, but her music sounded like two tomcats hissing at one another. And she knew it because she'd stop and glare at the sheet music.

Isla handed Jack earplugs, and they continued with their game.

“You’re getting better.” I hid my face in a book because Bea would see the lie if I didn’t.

Bea lowered the bow. “You don’t have to do that. I know I’m bad.”

“But you’re less bad than last week, and if you continue practicing, one day you’ll be good.”

She lifted her chin. “You’re right.” She tucked the violin under her jaw and sawed on.

“You can’t do that, Jack. You just said I wasn’t allowed.” Isla was screeching, but she still had the earplugs in.

“I can.”

“No.”

“I won.”

“You did not.”

Jack flung himself on the couch opposite me which seemed to be a pattern today, and I caught a flicker of yellow near his hand on the couch cushion. It was there and disappeared so fast I couldn’t decide if I’d imagined it or it was a trick of the light. The window was open, and it was probably something reflecting.

But Bea crossed the room at speed and grabbed her brother’s hand, reattaching his little leather bracelet that had fallen off.

Isla planted herself in front of me and put her arms out. “Do you want to see my drawings?” She bent over so her face was close to mine.

“What was that?” I peered around Isla.

“Nothing.” Bea was looking at Jack.

“Jack had a match,” Isla explained.

I’d never seen matches in the house, and I couldn’t smell that familiar sulphur tang of a struck match. Bea was almost sitting on a squirming Jack while glowering at her sister.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“No, it was a sparkler.” Isla was trying hard to convince me of something. “Left over from, ummm, a birthday.”

The kids were lying, and they were scared of telling me what had actually happened. It was probably my imagination, and I couldn’t allow them to be upset about something that I couldn’t prove.

I beckoned them onto the sofa. “Hey, guys, it’s okay. I’m not going to yell. No one’s in trouble.”

“Are you going to tell Daddy?” Jack’s bottom lip wobbled.

Now I was worried. Why would Price care about a trick of the light?

“There’s nothing to tell.”