Despite my initial reluctance, I agreed to dinner with Mr. Timothy. A nagging curiosity gnawed at me, urging me to understand the unsettling scene I had witnessed in his room. The image of him hunched over the powder-covered table lingered in my mind, refusing to fade.
As the evening approached, I tried to push away the uneasy thoughts. Dressed in a simple yet elegant navy dress, I arrived at the exclusive restaurant where Mr. Timothy had made reservations. The place exuded sophistication, with dimly lit chandeliers and the hushed murmur of well-dressed patrons engaged in private conversations.
Mr. Timothy was already seated when I arrived, his demeanor composed, yet I noticed the subtle tension in his shoulders. As I sat down, he offered a small, almost apologetic smile.
“Miss Mary,” h
