CORINNE
I followed George through the house, trying not to look like someone who was mentally storing every corner and doorway to memory.
The walls held art that looked expensive enough to require insurance policies and every hallway opened into another stretch of polished floors and quiet elegance.
“…all the household staff reside in the secondary mansion,” George was saying as we moved past a wide sitting room. “Mr. Delacroix values privacy and prefers to limit who occupies his personal residence. So it’s just him and the twins here.”
I stopped walking. “Wait… what?”
George turned back to look at me. “Is there a problem?”
“If he’s that private, shouldn’t I be staying at the other mansion then?” I asked, the confusion evident in my voice. “It seems counterproductive to put me right
