I looked up. Standing there, holding a takeout coffee, her eyes narrowed in absolute shock, was Vanessa.

“Lucas?” Her gaze shifted from her brother to me, recognition dawning slowly, then violently. “Evelyn? What the hell is going on here?”

For a second the universe stopped spinning. The air grew thick. If Vanessa dragged me back to Grant now, the conservatorship would be locked down before sunset.

I looked at Lucas. The choice was his.

He stood slowly, sliding the printed document into his jacket in one smooth motion, and stepped out of the booth, blocking Vanessa’s view of the table.

“V,” he said, surprisingly steady. “What are you doing here?”