Miles had been in a half blind panic for all of about fifteen minutes. How the fuck was he going to be able to stay in town now? Once Cass came out of his coma, he'd haul him in as a Death Eater, and Daphne and the kids would be left with nothing.
That couldn't happen.
But just as he was concocting elaborate plans to move somewhere nice and warm (the Bahamas, Australia and Panama had all somehow seemed rather appealing), another letter landed on the table in front of him, telling him it was a hoax.
Thank Merlin. Daphne didn't need the added stress, not with the baby, and anyway, the sun in Panama was pretty strong, and he really didn't want to see his wife's skin marred by a single freckle. Just as well it was a hoax.
Pouring himself a stiff drink, he returned to the rest of his bills, and for once, didn't complain about having to pay them.