Victoria came five steps behind, her heels clicking on the utility room linoleum.

“There’s nothing in this service wing but linens and holiday storage,” Victoria told the room in general.

“She told me not to touch the gray bunny.”

Michael slowly turned his head toward her.

“Who told you that?” Michael asked.

Victoria pressed her lips shut and fiddled with her watch strap.

“My granddaughter leaves her Easter baskets here every year,” she said quietly.

“It’s a family tradition.”