~ Seraphina ~
The morning began with a phone call from Eleanor Knox, a woman who usually only contacted me when she needed a premium table at the Fall Gala.
"Seraphina, darling," she said, her voice dripping with a saccharine concern that made my skin crawl. "I was just calling to check in. I heard something rather… odd at the club yesterday. A mention of some trouble at home? I told them it was nonsense, of course, but you know how people talk."
I gripped my phone, my knuckles turning the color of the white marble countertop. "Everything is fine, Eleanor. I’m not sure what you could have heard."
"Oh, just vague things. Something about 'unconventional arrangements,'" she hummed. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you. We should do lunch. When things… settle."
She hung
